Far Cry: Salvation
by SWDarkstone
Summary: Vaas is alive. Citra is alive. What happens when Jason gives up everything for a dream that was never his? When death won't claim him what will he have left? Insanity is too easy. Amid the ruins of what they once were can souls find peace or only suffer eternally? Jason must find a way back. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a Far Cry fanfic so expect brutal, dark, perhaps even taboo themes.
1. Definition of insanity

The air was shattered with the sound of gunfire and blaring horns. The Rakyat warriors snatched up their weapons and made for the front entrance to the temple. The heavy gates were secure and more than a dozen warriors waited for anyone foolish enough to force their way in. Citra strode among her people with the air of a war goddess.

"See to the cliffs. We can not be sure they are not trying to climb them."

A voice called out once the chaos of bullets and horns died down. Citra knew it instantly and took a deep breath to steady herself, anger welling thick and black in her heart.

"Sister! My dear sister where are you?"

She moved swiftly up the ancient stone steps, her bare feet silent as she reached the top of the wall. Here more of her Rakyat warriors were stationed with guns and even bows aimed down at the assorted trucks and jeeps that sat outside the temple. Stepping to the edge she looked over the crumbling stonework to see her brother standing brazenly in the back of a truck.

Vaas scanned the length of the temple wall before locking eyes with Citra. With a wide smile he threw his arms open towards her. "Ah there you are huh? Looking fit as a fiddle." He scratched the side of his head that wasn't scarred, resting his other hand on his hip. "What the fuck does that mean anyway? Fit as a fiddle. How the fuck can a fiddle be fit? See these are the questions that keep me up at night." he chuckled loudly, shaking his head suddenly as if to clear it, before staring back up at his sister.

"Soooo." he began in a sarcastic tone. "How have you been?"

"What do you want traitor?" Citra bit the words off sharply.

Vaas gripped his chest with both hands, looking around at his men, the pirates that ravaged Rook island without mercy. "Family huh? They really know how to hurt you don't they? It's ok though. Ok Ok. Yeah. Cause you see my dear sister. You see I come bearing gifts. Well just one gift really." With a nod of his head two of the pirates pulled something out of the back of a truck, dragging it towards the temple.

"Close enough!" one of the Rakyat warriors warned as he took aim with his rifle.

Vaas hooked his thumbs into his belt and rolled his eyes. "Please hermano. You aren't going to do shit. Just stand there like a good little boy and shut the fuck up ok. Let the grown ups talk."

Citra saw the warrior tense, but she lifted her hand and he held his tongue as well as his trigger finger. Vaas stuck the tip of his tongue out with a big grin, knowing it would infuriate the warrior.

"What game are you playing now Vaas?" raising her voice to be heard, the command in her tone clear to all.

Vaas pointed at himself. "Me?" then lifted that same finger to waggle it at Citra. "No No No No. Me, no. I am not the one playing this game. You. You dear sister. This is your game huh? One you play so well, but you never learn do you no no, you never fucking learn. I always win." The green in his eyes danced with mirth as he stared up at her. "You keep sending these little play things of yours to me and I keep breaking them, but you just don't stop do you?" He pointed up at her, his hand mocking a gun as he pretended to pull the trigger. "Did I ever tell you the definition of insanity?" His laughter was sudden and booming. He doubled over and nearly fell out of the truck bed, but he caught himself, wiping a tear from his eye. "Fuck that never gets old man."

The two pirates drug what was clearly a body now almost right up to the temple gates, then turned and walked back to the gathering of pirates and vehicles.

Citra craned her neck to see the body and felt her heart fall at the sight below. Vaas saw the flicker of sorrow that crossed her face. Gesturing with his hands as if presenting her with a grand gift. "There you go huh? Your little warrior has returned to you sister. Snow White sleeps and only a kiss from his one true love can wake him." Vaas hopped down from the truck and moved to stand at the forefront of his men. Crossing his arms over his chest as he stared up at her. "Tell me sister is that you huh? You going to wake Snow White up with a little sugar?" Laughter from the pirates behind him and Vaas smiled all the more. "Maybe you can't though. Come to think of it I remember a certain pretty little thing I had the pleasure of entertaining for a while. Your Snow White he had a real hard on for her yeah. Real fucking hard. He went through Hell and back to get her too. That was some real knight in shining armor shit let me tell you. You have to respect a man willing to die for his true love."

Up on the wall Citra did her best to steel herself against her brother's words. He was lying. Twisting things. Trying to get under her skin. That was all it was. Jason loved her. Citra knew this to be true. They had sealed their love with passion before Jason had gone to finish things with Vaas. Their lovemaking had been true. It had been foretold. Jason was the one that would finally bring the Rakyat to power. So then why was this happening? Why was Jason lying below dead and Vaas standing triumphant? Her visions had been true, everything had come to pass as she'd seen it. How then could this part be so wrong? Jason was the one to bring power to her people. Together they were destined to lead the Rakyat to glory. Her vision had shown them in the throes of passion and then the golden light of her people spreading over the island. How had she been wrong?

Vaas cut into her thoughts with his mocking tone. "I can see you are so very torn up about this. Yet another of your would be warriors comes to me and finds nothing but death. When are you going to stop this sister? When are you going to stop sending men to their deaths? I promise if you will be patient I will come for you all." Vaas stared down every set of eyes he could find atop the wall slowly, his head going back and forth to make sure he didn't miss any of them. "Each and every one of you putas. In time. My time. You got that motherfuckers? Eh? You're all fucking dead. I'm just extending your time here while I deal with more pressing matters. You know like finding a matching pair of socks or shit like that. Make no mistake though when I'm ready...When its time." He locked his gaze with Citra's and there was not an ounce of warmth even in the furthest depths of his green eyes. "The Rakyat will be erased. Every bastard and bitch. Every child. Even the goddamn dogs and cats or whatever the fuck you keep as pets. You hear me Citra?"

Her own fury stoked the fires in her and she climbed atop the wall to glare down at the lot of them defiantly, her fists clenched at her sides. "You have no place here anymore traitor. You are nothing. A loathsome thing that slithers under the boot of Hoyt. You are little more than a pet yourself. A slave to his drugs and his whims. You will never find peace. Never freedom. Only a traitor's death awaits you."

Anger washed over him and Vaas threw his arms wide. "Here I am bitch c'mon! Let's see if any of your pussy Rakyat can kill me or...or wait, let me guess. You have to find another white boy to ink up and bullshit into your little cult so you can throw him at me? Let me tell you this one, Jason, man he got the closest of any of the others. Maybe you're onto something with this one huh? The local blood is too weak to kill me so you gotta out source that shit right. Like they say. Cheap labor right? So I tell you what I'm going to do for you sister dear. I tell you what." Vaas began backing away from the temple. Keeping his arms spread and his eyes on Citra. "I'm going to go back and wait for the next dumb shit you send to kill me since we both know you can't do it." here he traced a finger up the scar that dominated the left side of his shaved head, then ran the finger into the mohawk atop it. Looking for all the world as if he was grooming himself before a big date. "This was fun little sister. Real fun. No I mean it. Jason...Snow White there. He put up a Hell of a fight, but just like you he couldn't get the job done. So fucking sorry." Laughing he turned swiftly and slid into one of the trucks, slapping the top. "LETS GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" he commanded. The pirates all loaded up and soon the air was full of the roar of engines as the vehicles cleared out.

The Rakyat waited, keeping their guard up until they were sure the pirates had really gone. Once things died down Citra headed down towards the main gates. Jason had failed. How had she not seen this coming?

The sound of running steps brought her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see Dennis coming towards her. His face was bright and he waved his hands in the air joyfully.

"He lives!" he proclaimed. "Jason Brody lives!"

When he reached her he paused to catch his breath. Citra took hold of his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. "What are you saying Dennis?"

The former Marine could not contain his glee. "My words are true. Jason Brody yet lives. He is not in the best of shape to be sure, but the breath has not left him."

Citra could not help but feel hope rising and a tightening in her chest. "What has been done to him?"

Dennis looked back over his shoulder to where several Rakyat were gently carrying Jason into the temple while others pushed the heavy gates closed. "He has been stabbed, deep, but not fatal. Most likely it was Vaas and his arrogance that made him think Jason dead at his hands." Dennis looked back at Citra and could not help the pang of jealousy that bit into his heart at the sight of her eyes and the tears she now shed at the news her lover was alive. Why could she not look at him in such a way? He could not change that, but what he could do was support her in any way he could, even if that meant helping the outsider who had taken his place in the Rakyat. Jason Brody had become the symbol of hope that he once aspired to be. It was Citra's will and that of the gods so who was he to question it.

"Dennis we can not send him after Vaas again." Citra said quietly so only he would hear.

"What do you mean? He must kill Vaas."

She shook her head. "No I was too careless with him. He is not ready. Vaas was raised to lead the Rakyat. Traitor he may be, but he is still a warrior of great power." Citra hugged herself and half turned away from Dennis. "At one time he was the strongest of us."

Dennis didn't like seeing her like this. "You know he abandoned the path. Vaas is no longer a man, but an animal. Even the Tatau has left him. You have seen his arm Citra. It is bare. The jungle has forsaken him just as he has forsaken us."

"All you say is true, but still he remains. Vaas remains. Perhaps as an animal he is even more dangerous. Animals have no qualms over the spilling of blood. They do not regret the taking of life. They hold no place in their hearts for spirits or gods. Animals care only for survival. Pain is only proof they are alive. If Vaas is an animal now then he is all the more dangerous and for that reason I can not send Jason against him again."

"Because you fear his failure." The statement caused Citra to flinch. "Is this fear for yourself or your people?" Dennis dared to ask.

Citra turned her gaze upon him fully and he felt the full weight of her authority, instantly regretting his words. "Everything I do is for my people. You, one welcomed in as one of the Rakyat, would do well to remember that you are now one of my people and be all the more thankful for it."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Yes. Yes. You are right. I am sorry Citra."

"Good." Lowering her arms she tapped her fingers lightly against one bare thigh. "Jason must grow stronger. Once he is healed we will send him to the Southern island. Keep him and Vaas separated. Let my brother think our warrior dead until Jason is ready to deal with him. We will cultivate him, nurture the warrior inside him until he is truly ready."

"Of course. What do you wish me to do?" Hoping to placate her after stumbling over his previous words.

Citra lifted a finger to her chin in thought. There had been something that her brother had said that struck her still. A ring of truth that she did not like at all. "Dennis I want you to find Jason's friends. Find them and bring them to the temple."

His eyes widened behind his glasses. "You wish for me to bring outsiders into the temple?"

"Yes I very much do." She nodded slowly. "Especially the one Jason was close to."

Dennis was quick to remember the first outpost near the Amanaki village. It had been the first time Jason had fought along side the Rakyat. He had been frantic to find a woman then. "Liza! Her name is Liza." her offered.

Citra smiled, but it was not a pleasant thing. "Yes be sure that you find her. Her I want to see most of all."

"It will be done." Dennis promised and spun around, calling out to several warriors to follow him on his new mission.

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Jason did not wake for days. He lay on a cot within the recesses of the temple. Torch light illuminated his sweat covered body and Citra sat by his side on a low stool. Now and then she would dip a cloth into a bowl of water and wipe at his brow. His wound had been tended and he would recover. Vaas had stabbed him with a poisoned blade. It was the poison that was running it course through Jason even now. His fever was bad, his body like sitting close to a fire. Citra had used every bit of her healing arts to keep him alive, but the rest was in Jason's hands now. Only he could determine if he lived or died. Even as she tended to him he would twitch and seize up as if he were in some struggle with unseen demons. Perhaps he was she thought. It could be that Jason was being tested by the spirits of the Rakyat who had come before him. He was an outsider after all and he had fallen at the hands of Vaas, a man who spit in the face of everything he had been born into. Could Jason overcome such things and rise to be the warrior she knew he could become? It was not like her to doubt herself. Perhaps she was letting things with Jason get out of hand. She had to keep her eyes ever on the horizon, for her people.

Jason coughed and almost sat bolt upright. Citra took hold of his shoulders and pressed him back down onto the cot. His eyes were wide open, panic written clearly in them. They were green like her brother's, but so very different too.

"Jason you must not move. Your wound will open if you struggle so." she tried to sooth him.

"Vaas...I..." Jason began to mumble.

She nodded her head. "Yes I know. It is ok." He must feel horrible for failing her.

"...he's dead." Jason coughed a little, throwing an arm over his head and wincing when the movement pulled at his wound.

"What?" Citra asked in confusion. One hand holding the cloth just over Jason's forehead.

"Yeah...I...I did it." A silly smile made its way across his lips. "He...he got me good at first. Surprised me." His voice was weak, but his eyes clearly were seeing memories that were not true. Citra kept quiet and only listened as he went on. "I killed them all. Then he hid like a fucking coward and...stabbed me...bastard actually said peek-a-boo when he did it." here he tried to laugh but the pain in his gut stopped him. "Didn't matter though. Cause...I did it Citra. I...I got him. I finally got him. He must have done something to me cause I was tripping balls, but it didn't matter. I got that motherfucker and I made him pay for killing Grant. I made him pay for everything."

Citra processed what Jason said and then reassured him with a warm smile. "Yes Jason, my warrior, you did. I was amazed when you returned to us. You were almost dead, but you were strong enough to come back to us...to me." The lies falling easily from her lips.

Jason turned his head to look at her and smiled, though he was already fading back to sleep. "...for you..." he said softly.

"Good Jason. Remember that. That is all the truth you will ever need."

This could not have worked out better Citra thought to herself. Jason believed he'd killed Vaas and Vaas thought he'd killed Jason. It was perfect. Now she could steer Jason to the Southern Island while she promised to help him rescue his friends. Once everything was in place she would be proven right. Her visions had not failed her, only she had not understood their true meaning. In failing to defeat Vaas, Jason had shown that he was not the warrior that would lead her people into the future, but he was a key part in the creation of that warrior. There was only one way Citra could think of that happening. Her hand absently fell to her taut belly and she eyed Jason up and down where he lay sleeping.

"Soon Jason you will help create a glorious future for my people. When you are ready I will take you into me once more, only this time I will fully welcome your soul into me. Your warrior's spirit will fill my womb and from our union a truly unique warrior will rise. One that will deliver the Rakyat unto glory. Until then sleep well Jason. Heal. Grow strong. For me."


	2. Fever dreams

Hoyt Volker died. That is fact. The outsider known as Snow White infiltrated his compound on the Southern Rook island and slaughtered him with a knife. Not just Volker, but every soldier in the room that day died at the hands of the outsider. Those who entered the room afterwards described it as a blood bath fit for a horror movie. Bullet holes riddled the walls, and everything was in ruin. Almost none of the furniture had escaped unscathed. Volker himself was slumped against a wall, stabbed to death. A single finger lay on the table off to the side. Playing cards were strewn about and it seemed this had been where the chaos had begun. The finger didn't belong to any of the bodies in the room so who could it belong to? Rumors would spread later that Snow White had left his own finger as some sort of twisted message. On that same day a single hostage was taken from the prison, this too the work of the outsider. A single man had stole away into one of the most heavily guarded compounds on the islands, killed dozens of men, freed a hostage, and left their employer dead in his wake. What sort of a man could do such a thing?

 _"What sort of man are you Jason? You sick fuck. Tell me does it make any sense to go through everything, all that shit, that pain, to find them. To free your friends, your brother. To do that and then turn around and throw it all away for her? Jason what is wrong with you? Liza man. Poor Liza. First you break her heart and then you slit her throat? That is cold hermano, let me tell you. Cold. Cold. Cold. I told you didn't I Jason? I said if you let her my sister would fuck you up huh? I told you white boy. I tried to tell you over and over. That ink don't mean shit on you man. You think it made you one of them huh? That it gave you some big hairy balls to drag around the jungle while you beat your chest? You got fucked Jason. Fucked like a bitch in heat. Begging for it hermano. Oh yeah you were so ready to throw it all away to be Citra's little puppet and look where it got you. Don't you see Jason? Look at the knife in your chest you fucking puta! Look at how you died in front of them! Look at her riding you to the very end! Taking everything from you! She took you for a fool hermano! Then she took your soul! No No No No, that isn't right at all is it. You fucking threw it all at her Jason. You couldn't wait to give everything to her could you fucker? I tried Jason I really did. How many times did I tell you...over and over...time...and...again..."_

 _"Did I ever tell you the definition of insanity?"_

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Jason opened his eyes and regretted it instantly. The light hurt like Hell. It was a spike driving into the already throbbing agony that was his skull. He swallowed with the greatest of effort, his throat thick and tight. For a second his breath caught and he floundered feebly where he lay, trying to breathe. After what seemed an eternity he managed to draw in a rasping lungful of air. Why was it so hard to breathe? His chest was on fire, in fact every part of him seemed to be hurting in some way or another. Forcing his eyes open against the painful light he tried to turn his head and found that he couldn't. He just did not have the strength to do it. So he resigned himself to what he could see. Directly above him was a rusty tin roof with old wooden slats for support. Flicking his eyes around made him dizzy, but he needed to see more. He could make out the walls, which were a mashup of tin and plywood that seemed haphazardly thrown together. Some of the nails stood out bent and rusted and he wondered how the place was still standing. He could hear waves and smell the salt air. He was close to the ocean then. Thinking so much was difficult and made him dizzier still. He could figure this out later. Yeah...later...

He fell back into a fitful sleep.

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The young girl made her way from the makeshift bar where the fishermen wasted away the nights drinking. Her destination was old Rohana's shack at the far end of the little shanty town of sorts. It was really nothing more than piles of driftwood and wreckage that the tides kept dumping into the shallow cove along the island's Southern coast. Some people had taken to building little shacks here and there and then a few had gotten together to build a more permanent structure and wouldn't you know it turned out to be a bar. Rika had to smile at how men were. Give them something to drink and cards to play and they were more than happy to sit for hours wasting away their lives. Besides the bar there wasn't much of anything to the place as a whole. It didn't even have a name.

Rika balanced easily as she pranced along an old wooden beam that had once been a ships mast. She'd grown up playing in the trees and vines of the jungle, running around on the beaches with the wreckage of ships long lost at sea so this was nothing to her. Her bare feet were sure as she made her way towards the little shack where it sat all alone at the very edge of the chaotic drift collection. As she got closer her steps slowed and she felt that same excitement fill her. Being part of a secret was always a great feeling as long as it wasn't a bad secret after all, and she was part of a very big secret indeed. Rika was one of only four people who knew about what was going on in old Rohana's shack. Rohana herself of course and two fishermen that had both sworn they would die before they said a word about it.

She paused at the makeshift door that didn't quit fit the frame it was set in. "Rohana?" she asked, but not loudly. She adjusted the little bundle of fruits and some plants the old woman had asked her to gather so that it settled on her hip where she could hold it in place with one hand, while she knocked on the door with her other.

She'd barely made the first knock when the door flew open and the old woman pulled her in with surprising strength. Rika stumbled a few steps before gathering herself and spinning around with a grin. "Hello old one. Still alive I see." she teased.

Rohana snorted, folding her hands behind her back, looking for all the world like one of those little Kung-Fu masters in those movies from beyond the islands. Rika had seen a few movies up at the bar on the little TV with the old VCR. She giggled at the sight of the old woman standing here in her thread bare brown pants and dingy yellow shirt with holes in it. Her gnarled old feet were bare and looked to be the same color as the dirty floor.

"I'll out live you girl and don't you forget it." Rohana pursed her lips out, affecting a grumpy face.

They both laughed in unison before the old woman moved to hug the young girl. Rika marveled at how small Rohana was compared to her, well at least how short she was. Rika wasn't tall by any means, she knew that, but Rohana seemed to shrink a little more every year. It was not something she was looking forward to in her own old age.

Rohana pulled back from the hug and looked the girl over with a keen eye. Age may have been cruel to her body, but the old woman's mind was as sharp as ever. "You bring what I asked for?"

Nodding happily Rika produced the bundle. "Even managed some mangos."

Clucking softly to herself Rohana took the bundle and moved to the far side of the shack where a small table and some little boxes sat. "Good good. These will help."

At those words Rika turned to look at the third occupant of the tiny shack. A simple cot had been set up at the foot of the sleeping bag Rohana used. The shack really didn't have the space for the cot, but it couldn't be helped. After all they couldn't very well let a man so wounded lay on the floor could they? Casting a quick look at the old woman Rika saw that she was busy grinding the various plants into powders and pastes. So she stepped lightly over to the cot and looked down on the man that lay unconscious there. He was bigger than any native man she'd seen before. He had to be at least a foot taller than most of them. Lately some of those soldiers from the Southern island had started coming over and some of them might be comparable in height. Not that it mattered. They could all be ten feet tall and it wouldn't make them even half of what he was.

Rika was tempted to reach out and touch him as she watched the rise and fall of his chest. Not for the first time she marveled at how muscled he was. She'd seen the fishermen hauling in the nets and those that worked the fields, not to mention the hunters that dared the jungle. They were finely muscled with not an ounce of fat on them. This man on the other hand seemed over burdened with muscle. Even under fed as he was and sickly his body seemed powerful. His chest and shoulders were especially large and his arms were thick. She could only imagine how impressive he would be were he healthy. He was bare down to the old sheet that covered his lower body and he had numerous scars and fresh wounds. Most were superficial, but the one in his chest was the most pressing. He'd been stabbed quite deeply. He should be dead by all rights. When they'd first brought him here Rohana had proclaimed the spirits wanted him to live. Rika didn't buy into all the island superstitions, but she had to admit this man had some serious luck on his side. Before she knew it her hand was almost there, fingers just about to brush through that thick brown hair of his. It looked so soft and she had wanted to touch it since the very first day.

"Leave him be girl." Rohana snapped without even looking up from her work.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Rika turned away and moved to lean against the wall beside the table. The shack groaned under even her slender frame. "It has been a week. Will he sleep forever."

The old woman chuckled. "They call him Snow White. Maybe he will sleep until he is woken by true love's kiss."

Rika blew out a long breath, rolling her eyes. "That is a stupid name for a man like him. He is the one who killed that evil man on the Southern island, the one that brought all the misery to our people and destroyed everything he touched."

"Oh so you know all there is to know of him then eh? The girl who knows all." her throaty cackle filled the shack.

"I don't know all, just more than most." Rika corrected with a harrumph. "I know his name and it is not Snow White."

Rohana paused in her work and turned her withered face up towards the young girl. "A name is a powerful thing girl. It is not something to be thrown around lightly. This is why we have so many other words to use when we speak to a person. Best you keep that in mind eh?"

"You and your superstitions are so funny Rohana." making a point to use the old woman's name.

"You and your fifteen years of life are in no position to judge me Rika." the old woman shot back, stressing her name as well. "Now if you have nothing better to do you can go. I have to tend to him. The fever has returned."

Chewing her lip, Rika looked over at the sleeping figure with worry. "Will he be ok...really?"

The old woman caught the very real concern in her young friend's voice. With a soft smile she nodded slowly. "I won't let him leave this world. I think there is much left for him to do. What that is I can not say, but I know the spirits did not save him only to let him die here in my shack. I owe him a debt and I will see it repaid."

It wasn't much, but what could she really expect after all. Rohana was doing all she could and Rika knew it. Pushing away from the wall and ignoring the shacks groaning protest, she headed for the door. "I'll be back tomorrow. It's about time to feed him anyway."

Rohana shook with laughter so that she almost toppled from her seat. "Oh you do look forward to that don't you girl? Get you all warmed up does it?"

Rika's cheeks were flaming as she exited the shack and headed back up towards the makeshift bar. Damn old woman! It wasn't her fault that Rohana didn't have enough teeth left to chew the mango so they could feed him. It wasn't like she got some kind of thrill watching him swallow the mush after she...No! Stopping in her tracks she forced those images right out of her head. That wouldn't do her any good at all. Taking a deep breath of the sea air she let the wind blow her long black hair around her shoulders. You had better wake up soon Jason Brody she thought before once more heading towards the bar.


	3. Wake up call

Vaas woke to the sounds of voices outside his room. An argument that was pushing its way into his private space even through the locked door. Cursing under his breath he sat up on the little bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The room was littered with beer bottles, empty chip bags, books on every topic. Though most of them were travel guides, journals, notebooks, and others taken off those unfortunate enough to become his prisoners. On the table several laptops sat open. Their bright cheerful backgrounds in stark contrast to the fate of their owners. A radio sitting on the floor by his bed was playing old rock at a low volume. Rolling his head to the side he popped his neck loudly, letting some of the tension ease out, but the voices kept up and it was starting to annoy him.

"The boss is sleeping. Fuck off."

"Trust me man he'll want to hear this."

Vaas stood and strode to the door, more than annoyed now. What the Hell did they think they were doing standing outside his room having a pissing contest? Unlocking the door he snatched it open and barreled out into the midst of the small group of pirates. All of them went quiet, stunned by his sudden appearance.

"What the actual fuck!" Vaas all but screamed in his Spanish accent. "Can a man not have himself a little beauty sleep without you assholes having to stand out here and measure dicks?" He eyed them all in turn, the blazing green of his gaze wild like the jungle that surrounded the compound. None of them made a sound. "Well bitches I am waiting. Somebody better give me a good fucking reason why I am unrested before I decide to feed your balls to the pigs?" He made a cutting motion with his finger across the crotch of the nearest man.

"Boss big problem man." One of the pirates offered quickly, no doubt fond of his balls.

Vaas spun towards the man, pointing both his hands at him, fingers extended. "You have ten seconds to wow me and remember hermano." He walked over and clapped the pirate on the shoulder, a knife flashing into his other hand. The tip of which he tapped lightly against the man's fly. "Your balls are on the line eh?"

Swallowing nervously the man looked around at the others for help. None of them made eye contact with him.

"Now you have five seconds my friend. Tick tock." Vaas intoned darkly.

"Hoyt's dead!" the pirate blurted out.

Vaas arched both brows then brought the knife up to rest against his shoulder. He leaned in close to the pirate, nose to nose, eye to eye. "Ok you have my attention. Now say that again, but elaborate for me ok. I want some details. Something more than just you trying to save your little sunflower seeds huh? Give me something to process."

"He's uh, dead. Just got the word. Our guys at the South docks were waiting to pick up the guns and drugs like we do every month. You know boss, the good stuff."

Vaas pressed his forehead hard against the pirate's own, backing him into the wall as the others spread out to give them room. "I know how the delivery works. Get to the fucking part where Hoyt is dead."

"Yeah boss. Those pricks, those soldier boys of Hoyts told us to go fuck ourselves when they showed up in a gunboat. They said no more shipments unless we pay. Said things had changed since Hoyt was dead. New rules or something."

The man was about to say more, but Vaas slid his empty hand over his mouth to silence him. The pirate's eyes went wide with fear.

"Shh shh shh. I need to think. To ponder ok." Vaas sucked on his teeth, baring them for a moment like an animal catching a scent in the air. Nodding he spoke to no one in particular. "Let me get this right ok. Those cocksuckers want me to pay for something that already belongs to me? Huh? Is that what you are telling me?" His eyes were darkening.

The pirate nodded as best he could.

Vaas spun away from everyone in the hall and roared at the top of his lungs. "WHO THE FUCK DO THEY THINK THEY ARE?" His booted foot lashed out and sent a table and cards flying down the hall. Beer bottles shattered against the wall and floor. He was furious. "I tell you who they are...No I tell you right now. Those assholes are dead. Do you hear me?" Slowly he turned to face his men, tapping the knife against his temple. "Their brains, they don't work eh? This vital organ right in here." Tapping his temple harder with the flat of the blade as he spoke. "This shit in here is all rotten." The irony of that statement was thick, but none of the pirates said a word. "So I tell you what. I tell you what ok. We are going to pack ourselves a nice little picnic. We are going to put on our best attire. Then we are going to take a little trip my friends. Just a little business venture eh?"

Vaas turned away from them and started to walk down the hall, in no rush, just prancing along waving his knife around as he spoke.

"And I tell you what and I'm not shitting you here ok. This is like gospel stuff ok. Biblical proportions of ass clenching truth. If there are ants at my picnic I'm gonna burn the whole fucking place. Write that shit down or whatever."

Vaas turned the corner and was out of sight. The pirate who'd been trying to stop the others from waking their boss slumped against the wall before shooting them a nasty look. "I told you not to wake him."

 **→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←**

The little shack weathered the storm, creaking all the while, threatening that at any moment it might give way. Rohana didn't give any thought to it. If it fell it fell. Nothing she could do about it. Instead she busied herself with something useful. She sat bent low over her small table, several of her little boxes open before her. She was working on medicine for a local fisherman who's gout was acting up. Poor man was in agony and couldn't provide for his family while he was laid up. She'd have him back to work in no time. He had promised her some nice fish in exchange and she hadn't had fish stew in ages.

Thunder rolled overhead, booming down and rattling the shack. The spirits were surely in a foul mood today. The sky had been dark with clouds that had denied the sun and the rain when it had come had been fat and heavy enough to drive all but the most stalwart or foolish to cover. Days like this were best spent inside.

Despite the downpour rattling on the tin roof of her shack the old woman was aware the moment her ward moved. Abandoning her work she turned to face the cot and the man who was blinking his eyes open. He lay staring at the ceiling, no doubt wondering where he was. Making sure to remain still on her little stool and out of his reach, Rohana cleared her throat.

Jason turned his head slowly and saw a very old woman, one of the locals, her gray hair cut short so it framed her round face with all its wrinkles. Her smile was kind, but her eyes were sharp as a hawk's. He tried to speak, but his voice failed him.

Rohana waved a hand in the air dismissively. "Let me start. I am Rohana and I know who you are. You will need time to gather your strength. You haven't spoken in weeks, barely drank anything and don't even get me started on how much you have eaten. The spirits alone know how you are even alive, but you are."

Jason thought her voice was nice. Like a grandmother should sound. Well if she were from a pirate infested tropical Hell hole like Rook Island that is. Swallowing as best he could he winced at the pain in his throat. She wasn't kidding. He doubted he could make any sound other than a dry croak if he tried.

The old woman slapped her knee and stood. "Some host I am. If you feel up to it I do have water. Its not fresh, day old at least, but its drinkable."

He nodded and regretted it. Pain flared behind his eyes and he closed them tight, letting out a low groan that was barely a hiss really. Rohana moved towards the door where the clay jug of water was sitting beside it. Halfway to it she paused and turned her head back to look at the man on the cot. He was laying still, eyes squeezed shut in pain, but still this was the one they called Snow White. A very dangerous man. Some said he was the living dead. There were many tales about him escaping death, far too many to be true, but also too many to discount all of them. There was even one that said he'd clawed his way out of a pit of rotting bodies, covered in the blood of the fallen, born anew into the world as a vengeful force against the wicked. Rohana was wary of the spirits to be sure, but right now the very real man laying on that cot was the more pressing concern. Turning her back on him while he was awake, wounded and sick as he was or not, didn't sit well with her. Not until they sorted things out any way.

"Hey." she called to him, not too loud though. He was in pain after all. "You wouldn't kill an old woman would you? Not after she spent almost three weeks nursing you back from the edge of death."

Edge of death? What was the old woman talking about? Jason tried to sit up, but that was a huge mistake. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to stay still. So instead he remained as he was, eyes closed and just shook his head very slowly.

That was all she needed. Turning back to the task at hand she shuffled over and hefted the jug with both hands. It was about half as wide as she was, squat, with a narrow opening at its top that was corked. She carried it over to the cot and rested it on its frame. With a tug she pulled the cork. "You need to sip. No gulping. You don't listen and you will make yourself sick. Won't do you any good to throw everything you drink back up got it?"

Jason opened his eyes and took a few breathes. A sharp bolt of pain shot through his chest and he lifted a hand to touch it. The old woman caught his wrist with one of her skeletal hands.

"Leave it." When she saw the question in his eyes she explained. "You were stabbed. I've got a poultice on it now and I don't want you mucking it up with your clumsy hand."

Stabbed? Flashes of Citra filled him. The warmth of her body under him as he thrust into her. The chanting of the Rakyat surrounding them, filling the air. The power he felt, the sheer enormity of what he was had filled him with a sense of purpose. Then everything went wrong. It was all so very wrong. The knife had come from nowhere. Citra had a knife? She'd stabbed him? Why? He'd done everything she'd asked so why? The pain of that memory, of the betrayal was almost more than he could bear.

"...Liza...God...fuck me..." he croaked in his raspy voice. Jason screwed his eyes shut as her face swam up to the surface of his memory. The knife slicing her throat open, this time it was his hand holding it. Holding that damn ancient knife Citra had wanted. The one that freak Buck had wanted to trade for Keith. What had he done? Jesus he'd killed her! He'd fucking killed Liza! Shit what about the others? Riley, Oliver, Keith, and Daisy, were they dead too? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Rohana saw him fighting through some internal struggle. Looking down on him she watched as sweat began to glisten on his exposed skin. Every muscle straining as if he were bound with unseen ropes. It was clear he was suffering, but this was something she had no medicine for. The Rakyat had kept his mind trapped for far too long and now that he was free of their prison he would need to face the world with clear eyes.

"Listen here." she commanded in the way only old women could. "Whatever you are upset about can wait for now. You need to drink. Now open your eyes. You've walked with dreams long enough. Time for the real world now don't you think?"

Fighting back the misery, the self loathing, all of it, Jason opened his eyes and looked at the old woman and waited. He must really be dehydrated because he wasn't crying. At least he hoped that was why.

Rohana gave a nod and tipped the jug towards his mouth. She let a tiny stream pour out, barely enough for a healthy man to even taste it, but to Jason it was like a waterfall. His tongue soaked up the moisture and then he let it fill his mouth.

"Sips boy." Rohana ordered, seeing him just about to gulp down a big mouthful. Pulling the jug back she glared at him with disapproval. "Go on an make yourself sick then, but I won't clean you up. Bad enough I been washing you and keeping after you all this time while you slept. I won't do it now that you're awake."

Jason did exactly as she told him and let the water slide down his throat slowly until his mouth was empty. God it was Heaven! Warm water never tasted so good. Looking at her he opened his mouth again and she tipped the jug once more. They repeated this several times until she declared that was enough for now. Even with just the water Jason was feeling stronger.

"Thank you." he managed to say in his normal voice.

"No need. I am only repaying a debt I owe to you." she explained, setting the recorked jug on the floor.

A debt? What was she talking about? "Have we met?"

The old woman shuffled back to her short stool and settled onto it facing him. "Yes. Not long after my daughter died you came here. You were wild eyed and full of yourself, also armed to the teeth. The great savior of the Rakyat." she all but spat those last words.

"Wait...I think I remember something." Jason tried really hard to focus, a lot of his memories were so fucked up he couldn't tell the real ones from the rest. "Something to do with a ring right?"

Rohana nodded, "My daughter's wedding ring. Her husband Senin was going to violate her grave to get it back. Bastard wouldn't leave her in peace, but you put a stop to it."

"I don't think I did much. Just shot at his feet and he and his pals ran off." It was coming back to him. Yes he remembered the old woman now. She'd been crying that day. Why had he helped her back then he wondered? There had been nothing to gain by helping her. It wasn't part of his mission to take down Hoyt and Vaas or to follow the path the Rakyat had set him on.

She blew out a long disgruntled snort. "You did more than any of those drunks up at the bar. None of them would lift a finger to help me and after all the tending I've done for them when they were sick or hurt. If I wasn't such a nice woman most of them would have died from infection by now." her face turned soft as she looked up, memories over taking her sight. "No you were the only one who helped me. Because of you my daughter's spirit remains at peace. That is why I have tended to you. In the hopes of returning the favor and pleasing the spirits."

Jason wasn't about to argue with her, even if he didn't see it as all that big a deal. Her talk of spirits got his attention though. "Spirits huh? Like the ones the Rakyat talk about? You don't seem like part of the tribe."

"That's because I'm not." she declared, looking back to him with livid eyes. "Fools that they are courting wicked things in the dark. Their minds are lost to the void, to the hunger of their vile gods. Nothing good comes from them if you ask me."

Jason ground his teeth as he tried to sit up.

"Wait now you shouldn't..."

He shook his head, ignoring the pain and dizziness. "No...I...need to."

Rohana wasn't so sure it was wise in his condition, but men could be very stubborn creatures. "Fall on the floor and I'll leave you there." she warned, but her voice betrayed her worry.

He almost laughed, but he was sure that would be a really bad idea right now. "Deal." It took everything he had, but after a few minutes of muttered curses and muscle clenching strain he got himself into a sitting position with his back leaning against the cool metal of the wall. He could feel the vibrations of the rain pelting against the little shack and it was soothing in a way. Once he was upright he started to feel better all around too. His vision stopped swimming and his head cleared a bit. Sure every single part of him hurt, but that meant he was alive right?

Glancing down at his chest he saw the dull green poultice slathered over the left side of it.

"The blade nicked your heart." Rohana offered. "Just a bit more to the side and no more Snow White."

So that part of his memory was true then. Citra had tried to kill him and after everything he'd done for her. "Damn it Citra." he hissed.

"Ah so it was her then." the old woman turned her head and spat with disgust. "Let the rats have her I say. That woman has twisted too many good people into her tribe. Taken away their souls."

Jason pushed the swelling sadness down. He couldn't deal with it right now. There was just too much. "Yeah well the Rakyat think she's a goddess or something." Avoiding the earnest stare of the old woman he admitted, "I bought into it too. Hell I fell in love with her I guess."

"You would not be the first. The Rakyat see themselves as great warriors. Guided along a path by their ancestors and the gods they pay tribute to with blood and sacrifice. Women may also follow the way of the warrior, but those that do not find another path to power. Like Citra, they become totems that speak for those that came before them. Proclaiming the will of their gods, the desires of their ancestors." Rohana's visage grew angry. "My husband abandoned me in my youth to join them. I saw him years later. He had the Tatau just as you did, but he was not my husband. That man was lost to me. That is what the Rakyat do. They twist a person until they fit what it is they want of you. You think you have a choice but you don't. They take away your will, mess with your mind, even your dreams."

"Wow, that's really fucked up." Jason lifted his left arm to look at the Tatau there and was shocked to see that his arm was bare. He ran his fingers over the skin, turning his arm this way and that. "What the fuck?"

"Do not worry. It took all I know of healing and the blessings of the spirits of this island, but I was able to leech the Rakyat's poison from your body. As I did their cursed Tatau began to fade."

Jason was worried to say the least. What about the power it gave him? All the things he could do because Dennis and Citra had given him the Tatau? Was he going to be a useless weakling again? "Can I get it back?"

If looks could kill Rohana would have slain him then and there. "Fool boy why would you want such a thing?"

"I need it. I need to be strong. I can't go back to what I was. I can't. You don't get it. With the Tatau I was important. I was powerful." he sounded like an addict needing a fix.

"Only the Rakyat wear the Tatau and you are not one of them. Not any more. You said it yourself, Citra tried to kill you. Their leader has cast you out." She could see the doubt in his eyes, the panic rising in him. So she tried a different approach. "It could also be that you have chosen to abandon the Rakyat. To walk your own path."

Jason wasn't so sure about that. He hadn't been able to do anything before the Tatau. Grant had died and all he could do was watch. "I don't think so. Before the Rakyat took me in and taught me how to survive I wasn't anything. I wasn't a warrior."

"Really?" she asked, leaning her elbows back on the table behind her, eyeing him up and down. "Nobody escapes Vaas. You did."

"My brother Grant is the one who got us out. He was in the Army. What little I knew of guns he taught me. Said I was a natural, but that didn't keep him from dying did it?" Jason lamented, hanging his head. A clap of thunder shook the little shack.

"Your brother died, so then how did you escape?" she questioned.

"Vaas that motherfucker, he told me to run. He wanted to hunt me. Have some fun. I didn't escape I was let go."

Rohana mulled what she'd learned over and asked another question. "Vaas hunted you and you survived. It is one thing to escape a cage, but to escape death hunted down by Vaas is an even greater feat. Tell me how did you manage that without your Army brother?"

Jason blinked, thinking back to it all seemed like it was in another life. Another him. "Well I ran. They were shooting at me and screaming and they had dogs and I thought I was going to shit myself, but I just kept running. Over logs and climbing vines, oh and a fucking ravine that I almost didn't make it over. Thank God for all my years of rock climbing back home. Pulled myself up and just kept running."

"Sounds horrible." she was letting him talk, just nudging him now and then at this point.

"It was Hell. I was so damn scared. Grant was dead and the others...I didn't know if they were dead too or what. I just wanted to get away. I was a coward. I just ran."

"So a brave man would have stopped and what? Let the dogs rip him to shreds? Taken a bullet? What good would that have done? Your brother's death would have had no meaning then. No you ran because it was the right thing to do."

He let her words sink in. He wanted to believe her, Hell part of him knew in the back of his mind that she was right. It was his overwhelming guilt that prevented him from fully embracing her words. Didn't they call that survivor's guilt or something? "Maybe. I dunno. I just kept running and then this guy got me. Dropped on me from above, maybe a ledge or something I don't know. He had me and he was shouting to the rest of them and he had this knife. He was going to kill me."

"How did you get out of that?" Rohana was sure she already knew. She'd felt that this young man had been sent to her for a reason. That she was meant to heal him and set him on a new path. One made by his own choices and not the whims of others.

"I...I..." Jason faltered as he remembered the look on the man's face when he shoved the knife into his neck. It had been the first time he'd ever taken a life. He'd never even gone hunting, the closest he'd come was fishing and he wasn't sure that really counted. The memory of that man's hot blood gushing over his hands came back to him and he rubbed them on the sheet that covered him from the waist down, as if trying to wipe away the blood and the memory at the same time. "..I...killed him. With his own knife."

Rohana nodded sagely. "You fail to see it don't you?"

"See what? I don't understand."

She pointed one of her bony fingers at him, her elbows still resting on the table behind her. "You saw your brother die right in front of you. Then you faced the most feared man on this island, Vaas himself, and you knew he was going to kill you. Did you lay down and die? No. You survived. You did whatever it took to get away from them. To do what others could not. You defeated a man intent on taking your life. You killed a man and your cause was just. Tell me where was your Tatau then?"

"I didn't have it then. Dennis...hadn't...given.." he trailed off. Her meaning finally reaching him.

"You see now. You are more than you think."

"But its more than that. The Rakyat taught me how to survive the jungle. How to fight. To hunt. What plants to harvest to make medicines and to help me see with the eyes of a warrior. I could even walk with the animals if I wanted and they wouldn't attack me. With the right plants I could do so many things. I wouldn't be here today if not for the Rakyat." he was grasping at straws and he knew it.

Rohana rolled her eyes and stood with a huff. Arching her back, hands on her hips. She sighed at the sound of several pops. "Those plants were no good. I know of what the Rakyat use in their rituals and on their hunts. Most of them make you see things that aren't there. Waking dreams if you are lucky, nightmares most times. Not a one of them are any good for healing. At the most they dull the pain. Let you ignore it. Look at you and all those scars. You know when I started tending to you it wasn't just those damned plants of theirs, but infection too that had your brain in such a fever. I was worried you might never wake." Shaking her head she moved over to him and lay a hand against his forehead. "Even now you are warm, but the worst is over. I wager the entire time you were with them you were high as a cloud. I've heard they drink fermented herbs during their rites that can lay a full grown bear to sleep for days. No wonder you were as dangerous as all the stories said if you were walking around using those vile plants of theirs and all that. I've seen locals try some of those damn things and lose their minds. They never come back. Just sit around talking to themselves if they are lucky. The rest just die curled up."

Every word she said fell on his ears like boulders. Each one heavier than the last and they all threatened to shatter the image of himself that he'd had since waking up in Amanaki village. Was she right? It did seem that every time Dennis or Citra promised him power it involved some freaky shit happening. Fuck once he'd fought a giant monster or something. That didn't seem right. How could it? It was like something out of a bad movie now that he thought about it. He'd just gone along with everything. Drink this. Eat that. Jesus that damn Doctor had some real heavy shit in his greenhouse too. Fuck had he just been wandering around this fucking island tripping balls all this time?

"So what you're saying is that for the past few weeks I've just been what?" Jason ran a hand through his sweat damp hair. "Drugged out of my mind shooting shit up for nothing?"

Rohana pursed her lips. "Weeks? No, but I would say since you joined the Rakyat their poisons have been controlling you."

"Yeah like I said weeks. I mean its only been two, three weeks at the most since my friends and I parachuted onto the island."

Laying a hand on his shoulder Rohana looked directly into his eyes and hoped her next words wouldn't give him too much of a shock. "The first time I heard stories of Snow White, the outsider who had escaped Vaas and joined the Rakyat, the same outsider who was fighting against the pirates...Well that was over six months ago."

Jason felt like the world had just fallen out from under him. Six fucking months! "No way. No. Just...No!" He shoved her hand away and made as if to stand. She put both hands on his shoulders and held him in place, but was more than a little surprised at how much strength he had after all he'd been through. His vitality was amazing.

"You can't change truth. Yes at least six months ago. So I would think you and your friends had been here on the island even longer than that for stories do not spread over night."

Jason sagged back against the wall and the entire shack seemed to lean his way. "...damn..." Was all he could say.

Rohana could only imagine how such news must be effecting him. "Take heart. You have done many great things despite the Rakyat's hold over you. There are so many people on the islands that are alive today thanks to you. So much evil has been erased by your hands. You brought hope to places that had long given up."

Before he could stop himself a chuckle escaped his lips, instantly he started coughing. The pain in his chest like hot pokers. "Goddamn it." Once he had himself under control he looked up at her and tried to smile despite the pain. "Yeah you're right. I did some good I guess. Least I killed Vaas and Hoyt. Those motherfuckers had it coming."

The old woman stood back, wringing her hands. Jason got the distinct impression she knew something he wasn't going to like.

"What?"

"Hoyt is surely dead. The news of it has reached even my ears." she said, brushing at her pants rather than meeting his gaze, as if making sure they were wrinkle free was the most important thing in the world.

Jason did not like where this was going at all. "But..."

She decided to just come out with it. He was going to be upset, but there was no helping it. "Vaas is alive. He rules this island as he always has. Only the Rakyat in their temple defy him."

Jason almost came right up off the cot, only the agony that wracked his entire body when he tensed up kept him seated. His green eyes however were ablaze. "No! Fuck that shit! No! I killed that son of a bitch with my own hands! I know it goddamn it!?

Rohana spread her hands, but had nothing to offer him but the truth. "As I told you, your mind has been twisted all this time by the Rakyat and their ways. I am sure even you question what you remember at times. You say you killed these men, but I know that only one is dead."

A sudden thought struck Jason and his anger vanished. "Wait if...if I didn't kill Vaas like I thought I did, then maybe I didn't kill Liza. Maybe Citra didn't turn on me. I mean its possible. Like you said I was glazed out of my mind for over half a year right?" Hope sprang into his voice.

"It is possible, but the only way to know the truth of these things would be to seek them for yourself." Rohana knew what his next words would be.

"Then I will." he swore.

"So be it. Just let your body catch up with your plans first. You are in no shape to do anything now." she admonished.

Jason nodded, barely registering the pain or the slight dizziness this time. Of course he hadn't killed Liza. Sure she could be a nagging pain in the ass and yeah they'd broken up and not in the best of ways, but still. Kill her? Nah, not a chance. He'd find his friends again and get them off the island. He'd talk to Citra too. Yeah definitely. No more weird plants. No more drinking shit made out of who the fuck knew what. No more pills. Nothing to mess with his brain. He needed to be wide awake from now on. He'd get himself healed up and then set all this mess straight.

Then he'd kill Vaas for real. Crazy fucker wasn't getting off that easy. Tatau or not.


	4. The Brody that got away

Vaas made a few calls and arranged for the mercs on the Southern island to bring in a shipment of guns and drugs. He agreed to the price, of course he made a big fuss about it before he caved, he couldn't have them on guard after all. So two days later the mercs arrived at the Southern most outpost of the North Rook Island with the shipment tucked away securely on their gunboat. Vaas arrived a half hour later with five of his own gunboats and an assortment of jeeps and trucks by land loaded with pirates. There wasn't even a skirmish. The mercs knew they were out gunned and surrendered right away. All but three were executed right away. The pirates hitching them between two jeeps and betting on which jeep would have the biggest piece once it was over. Five mercs went screaming that way. It left the remaining three very docile.

Now true to his word Vaas was enjoying a picnic with those very mercs. Each of them had been stripped to their underwear and were sitting cross legged on the grass with their ankles and wrists lashed together. Ball gags kept them quiet, well save for the occasional grunt or moan. Vaas himself was sitting on one side of a sheet that had been spread on the ground, the corners held in place by rocks. A decent spread of fruits and berries sprawled across the sheet. The pirate lord was reclining on his elbow, eating a slice of watermelon. Every few bites he'd turn and spit the seeds at the nearest merc. He was wearing a dull brown tie with yellow stripes loosely around his neck and sporting one of those very wide brimmed sun hats that women of means liked to wear. It was white with a pale blue ribbon falling over one side of it. The contrast of those two items of clothing against the rest of his assortment of belts, bandages, rags, and his normal attire was disturbing. He seemed quite pleased with himself as he chewed, the juice running down his chin.

"Is this not a fine day for a picnic?" he said, looking up at the sun over head. He took a deep breath and exhaled with a chuckle. "Smell the salt air. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach. The gulls chirping over head. It is a good day to be alive eh?"

Looking at each of the mercs arranged around the picnic he waited as if they could answer. Tossing the melon rind over his shoulder he slapped his forehead. "How silly of me. Hermano the gag if you please." gesturing to the merc hogtied directly across from him.

A pirate, who until then had been standing holding a big umbrella over the little gathering, bent down and undid the ball gag in the merc's mouth, then resumed his post. The merc worked his aching jaw.

"What do you want Vaas?" he growled, trying to sound tough.

Vaas stared at him silently, as if he hadn't understood the words. Then without warning or rising from his reclined position he pulled his 1911 pistol and put a hole in head of the merc to his left. The shot echoed and the gulls were silenced. Laying the gun down on the sheet Vaas pointedly took his time in selecting his next snack, taking up a handful of grapes and popping a few in his mouth, before looking back at the speaker.

"Oh I'm sorry." he began conversationally. "You see I asked you a fucking question and when I didn't hear an answer I sort of lost my temper. So ok, let's try again eh?" He spat grape seeds at the remaining merc one at a time. "Is this...Not a good day...To be...Alive?"

"Yes." the merc ground out through clenched teeth. This guy was as crazy as they said. How in the hell had Hoyt kept him on his leash all these years?

"I agree." Vaas said cheerfully, turning to spit more grape seeds at the other merc. "Amigos!" He shouted, looking around at his men over by the docks where they were unloading the cargo and then to the rest who were keeping watch around the outpost. "I said seedless grapes! Seedless! Next time try harder ok?"

"Sorry boss." One of them shouted back.

Vaas waved his hand in the air, the matter settled, then turned back to his picnic and guests. "So...Tell me something huh? Tell me why it is you guys over there think I'm going to start paying for the shit that is owed to me eh? I have tried to sort it out in my head ok and I tell you what, the shit just does not float you know...no no no, it just doesn't." Popping a few more grapes into his mouth. "So regale me with your way of thinking. Make me understand this bullshit ok."

The merc he'd been spitting seeds at started to struggled and grumbled behind the ball gag in his mouth. Vaas dropped the grapes and snatched up his gun quick as thought, aiming it right at the man so that he went still as a statue, eyes wide.

"Shh. Ok just shh. It is not polite to interrupt some one. Manners ok. Now sit there quietly or I will blow your dick off and let you watch the seagulls pick your little prick apart." When the man made no further protests Vaas put the pistol down and this time reached for an apple. He took a huge juicy bite and moaned as if it were the best apple he'd ever tasted. "I love apples, no I mean I really love them. The fruit of the first sin. The very thing that temped Eve to betray God. Fucking God!" He whistled then clicked his tongue loudly. "Can you imagine a fucking thing so good that even when God tells you...Hey bitches don't touch that...you still don't listen?" He was laughing now and the mercs exchanged worried looks.

Vaas went quiet so sudden it was freaky and he was looking at his seed target with a wry grin. "Did I forget to mention that I can not totally be sure those little sex toys we shoved in your mouths were clean? We pulled them out of some guy's suitcase."

The one merc who could, turned and spat several times, cursing under his breath. The other poor guy just sat there very quiet because Vaas was watching him like a viper, waiting for him to make a sound or give him any excuse to make good on his threat.

"Enough fun time, happy time." Vaas stood and removed the hat before tossing it like a frisbee. Bending back down he plucked his pistol up and leveled it at the still gagged merc, but his eyes were on the other. "Start talking."

"Look man Hoyt's dead and its a real shit storm over there. Guys are joining up with their pals and forming groups, some are pretty big by now. It's like there's dozens of little armies running around claiming shit as theirs. Outposts, supply depots, equipment, docks, territory. Man you name it. If its worth anything its up for grabs ok. My group got Hoyt's compoud and that means we got a shit ton of goods ya know. So we started selling it to some of the other groups. Figured we'd let you in too. Hell we even cut the price for you man, out of respect ya know." the merc really hoped that would suffice.

Scratching under his chin with the barrel of his pistol, Vaas had begun to pace during the merc's little story. His mood was anybody's guess. While his boots kept moving him back and forth he asked the merc, "Who killed Hoyt?"

Swallowing hard the merc started talking again. "Nobody actually saw it happen. Hoyt was having one of his poker parties you know. Well the guys at the front desk said they heard all Hell break loose up there and then one of our guys comes down the stairs and starts wrecking the place hard core."

Stopping in his tracks Vaas turned and crouched down so he could stare right into the merc's eyes. "One of your guys?"

"Yeah. Guys name was Foster. New recruit, only been with Hoyt about three months. Hoyt made a big deal out of him cause he busted up some traitors who were trying to fuck Hoyt over. This Foster guy smokes them out, kills lots of them, even brings Hoyt pictures and papers. Shit everything but the bodies ya know. So yeah Foster got in good with the big man and then he tore the compound a new one on his way out. He took a prisoner with him and made it all the way to the airstrip, hijacked a chopper and that was the last we heard of him. I think he might have been like a hired gun, one of those specialists who rescue hostages or something. Fucker was like a one man army. I'm talking serious Rambo shit man."

Vaas lowered his head, rubbing the back of it with his free hand. He was mumbling to himself and rocking slightly. The two mercs really started to worry now. Vaas looked like he was slowly losing his shit. He was twitching and all of a sudden he stood up so fast they thought he might be jumping. Turning away from them Vaas emptied his pistol into the air and screamed long and deep. All eyes were on him and he didn't care. He spun back around and stomped the little picnic into ruin as he made his way over to the merc, towering over him he looked down, nostrils flaring.

"You pussies let one motherfucker waltz up your asses and creampie your entire operation! Is that what you are fucking telling me huh?" he roared.

The merc cringed back as best he could under the circumstances. "Well Hoyt was the one who.."

Vaas's boot cut the merc off when it caught him under the chin. He rolled onto his back then flopped onto his side, his ankles and wrists still bound so he looked for all the world like some sad turtle as he tried to right himself. Vaas stomped around and crouched again, snatching a handful of the merc's hair and hefting him up so they were face to face.

"No no no no. We do not blame others ok. No we do not." his tone was wickedly soothing. "A man has to take responsibility you know. That is why they say you have to man up right. So...You...Need...To...MAN THE FUCK UP!" he screamed, spittle flying in the merc's fear filled face.

"Yeah ok we fucked up. We really fucked up." he whimpered.

A wide smile flashed and Vaas was the picture of friendliness. "There you go. See isn't that better? Feel all that weight lifting from you huh?" he tapped the merc's chest with the barrel of his pistol and then waved it up to the sky as if there really was a weight rising up into the blue canvas over them. For a few moments Vaas just crouched there, holding the merc's hair with one hand, his other still held up toward the sky. Then he broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper. "Tell me something. Tell me, this prisoner, the only thing this Foster guy took with him. His little liberated trophy. Who was it?"

The merc's eyes moved this way and that as he rattled his brain for the name. He was so scared at this point he was about to shit himself and if he couldn't come up with this name he was sure this wacko was going to saw off his dick or some shit. "Brody!" he all but shouted into Vaas's ear. "Riley Brody. That's the guy Foster took with him."

Vaas's hand dropped to his side with a dull thump as the pistol hit his boot. His head drooped down so that his chin was touching his chest. He nodded a few times and then stood, releasing the merc as he did. Without a word he ejected the empty magazine from his pistol and slammed a fresh one home. "Brody. You said his name was Riley Brody." Working the slide he chambered a round. Without another word he put a bullet into the gagged merc's head, then turned slowly to face the speaker. "You know I killed two Brody's myself, but you are telling me that my hat trick is gone. That the last of the brothers is now long gone huh? Free as a bird and all that shit...that is what you are telling me?"

The merc couldn't even wiggle away as Vaas turned the pistol on him. "Wait wait! I told you everything you wanted man! What the fuck?"

"YOU TRIED TO MAKE ME PAY FOR MY OWN SHIT YOU COCKSUCKER THAT'S WHAT THE FUCK!" Vaas errupted with rage while he emptied his pistol again, this time into the jerking body of the merc at his feet.

Once everything calmed down everybody still among the living waited with held breath to see what their leader would do next. Vaas holstered the pistol and walked away from the bloody mess he'd made. With a whistle and a twirl of his hands he called everybody to him. Surrounded by his men he crossed his arms cockily. "Ok there are a few new rules. First we do not pay for what is ours. Fuck those weekend warrior assholes ok. Second we keep everything that is ours. This fucking island belongs to us amigos. It is ours!" Cheers went up all around. Vaas held his hands up for silence. "Also we start retaking outposts those Rakyat cunts have acquired. I do not care how ok. Just make that shit happen with a vengeance. Blow shit up. Burn it down. Fuck things up. Ok meeting adjourned. Get to work."

The pirates started to clear out, but Vaas suddenly whistled so loud that some of them covered their ears. All of them stopped and waited to see what he wanted now. They never knew with their boss.

Vaas stood sniffling, looking up at the sky with his hands on his hips, and then moved to the nearest pirate and slung an arm around the man's shoulders "Amigos." he began. Lifting a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. "I have a confession to make. It is something I am not proud of however as my conversation with our guests has brought to my attention, a man has to own up to his mistakes. So I want all of you to witness this ok. Understand that I am one of you." He squeezed the pirate next to him close like a friend. Then leaned over and planted a big kiss on the man's cheek. Laughter and snickers followed the display. Vaas himself smiled wide before shifting back in to his more somber tone. "A few days ago I wrongly threatened to cut the balls off of some of you and feed them to the pigs." he paused, wiping a pretend tear from one eye. "That was uncalled for and I want those of you, and you know who you are amigos, to know that I am very sorry for my conduct. For my overreaction. For my words. This has been heavy on my heart and I need you to know that ok. I am not asking you to forgive me, because trust me amigos there may come a day when I have to cut your balls off and there may be pigs involved or dogs or some other shit like rats or whatever. The thing is I just wanted us to start this on a good note ok? No grudges. We are a team eh?" Looking around at his men Vaas gave a hearty laugh, a few of them joined in. "So let us gooooo and start some fun times amigos!"

Vaas headed for one of the jeeps as his men dispersed to perform their various duties. So somebody was sneaking onto the islands and rescuing people? That little Brody bitch was already gone, but there were others. Jason had gotten his little group of friends back, but Vaas was sure they hadn't gotten off the island. No Jason wouldn't have left his little brother with Hoyt, nope nope. Jason would have kept going till he got everyone back. Well that is if he hadn't killed that white boy with his own hands that is. Vaas grinned remembering that day. Watching Jason pull the knife from his gut and then fall to the floor dead. Ah he loved his job so very much sometimes. Still that meant that somewhere on this island were those friends of his. If some hired gun was making a play to rescue those rich white pricks then he intended to root him out and kill him too. First he had to find where Jason stashed his little gang and then use them to lure this Foster guy out.

Vaas's grin only grew bigger as he made his plans.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

Hello to those who have read this far. Thank you so very much. So I've had some thoughts running through my head. The first is whether you guys, the readers, would like more action or are you ok with the pacing I've set so far? I want to explore some deep emotional stuff in the very near future with this story and I worry that maybe I should spread some action scenes in there to spice things up so to say. So if you guys could perhaps share your thoughts on it that would be great. Also while I'm on the subject of your thoughts, how do you guys feel about my version of Vaas? I want to stay as true to how I feel he was, but if you guys think I could take him a different way or that I'm adding in or leaving out aspects of the character I'm open to hearing that. Basically I'm like any other writer. I like knowing how my readers are doing. I want you guys to enjoy the ride. Is there anything you guys want to see in the story that I _MIGHT_ and I stress that word, might, work into it. For instance do you guys want more Citra or could you care less? I know I'm by no means a great writer, but this story has formed in my head and it wants out so its going to keep coming. Again thanks guys for reading my words...oh and over look the typos. lol


	5. Moving Day

Today the rain was little more than a sprinkle, just enough to dampen the world really. Inside the little shanty shack Rohana was watching as Jason rotated his left arm. Since he'd come around two days ago she'd had him doing little exercises to see just how far along his recovery was. She was more than a little shocked.

"I'd like to say it was my healing skills that got you to this point, but honestly young man you have amazing vitality." She watched him straighten his arm, then curl it in quickly. "Tell me, how do you feel?"

Wincing a little he rubbed the left side of his chest. "It pulls, like its tight on the inside and it feels like I'm being jabbed with a hot needle sometimes." Clenching his left hand into a fist he looked at it. "But I'm ok."

The old woman gave a dismissive snort. "As if you know. I'm the healer remember?"

Jason looked up and saw her giving him what he'd coined as the _Rohana Stink Eye_. He didn't know how she did it, but somehow she could make one eye way bigger than the other one and her lips would do this thing where they curled inward. It should have looked funny, but it never failed to make him feel like a tiny little kid under her glare.

"Uh..Yeah I know that." Relaxing his fist so he could lay it in his lap. Once again he was sitting on the cot with his back resting against the metal wall. Though this time he wasn't naked with only a sheet to cover him. The old woman had given him a pair of her husband's old pants. A dull green pair that were definitely not Jason's size. They were a bit snug in a certain place and barely went past his knees, but they were good enough for him to move around in without fear of splitting them wide open. He'd done a few squats when he first put them on, actually hoping he'd split the ass in them, but to his dismay they survived. Shirts were another matter altogether. Nothing Rohana had left over from her husband even came close to fitting him in that regard, same with shoes.

Rohana nodded once and moved to her chair by the little table. "Good, best you keep that in mind. Just because you grow back like a weed doesn't mean you don't have to be careful. I did what I could, but from now on its up to you and the will of the spirits."

"Well I really hope these spirits of yours like helping a dumbass like me." he said with a little smile, though his tone was far from joking.

"Uh huh." the old woman grunted.

"What?" he asked from where he sat rubbing his shoulder to work out some soreness.

She poked her chest with a thumb. "You think I'm stupid? That smile doesn't fool me." she stated with surety.

"What are you - " he started.

"Oh hush." she snapped, effectively cutting him off. "You talk in your sleep sometimes. Not always or even a lot, but sometimes. Mostly when its a real bad dream. I know how you really feel about yourself. About the burdens on your soul."

Jason didn't say anything, just sat quietly, making a big deal out of counting the floorboards rather than meeting his caregiver's eyes.

Rohana on the other hand had more to say. "You think you're a monster. That there's nothing left inside of you worth stitching back together." She tapped a finger down on the table hard enough to rattle it as she said her next words. "The spirits didn't bring you this far unless there was something more for you to do. You hear me? Those two fishermen who found you said you were floating in the ocean just off the coast, down from that foul temple of those Rakyat. Your blood all in the water and sharks circling, but not a one of them going near you. Like they was scared to. That's why they even went over to you. Cause of how odd the sharks were acting. Surprised them to no end that you were alive. Naked, bleeding, stabbed, half drowned, but alive." Crossing her arms she rocked back in her chair. "Guess they thought I was the one to bring such a strange thing to."

He scratched at the light pink scar that was forming on the left side of his chest. He didn't even know he was doing it.

"Stop that!" she barked in exasperation.

Jason pulled his hand away quickly. "Sorry sorry like I keep telling you I don't mean to."

"Mean to or not, don't pick at it."

"Got it. I'll try." he promised, but he already wanted to dig at it again. Damn thing was going to drive him crazy.

She stared at him a little bit more, she knew he wanted to scratch it and she wanted to see if he'd dare do it again so soon. When she was satisfied he wasn't she started speaking again. "Like I wanted a water logged, naked man, bleeding all over my floor and taking up most of my shack. Specially one with a Tatau!" her words turning bitter towards the end.

Jason looked at his bare arm, still expecting to see the markings of the Rakyat there. "Why did you help me Rohana?" he asked.

She took her time to mull the words over in her head. "I didn't want to at first. Like I said I lost my husband to the Rakyat and their lies." Letting out a tired sigh she looked over at Jason warmly. "Maybe that's why I did help you. To do for you what I could not for him."

"Is that why you removed the Tatau from my arm?" Jason asked quietly, feeling like the air in the shack was thick, sort of solemn.

Rohana shook her head. "That I did not do. It faded away as you recovered. I don't know what it truly means. I've told you before that it might mean you have chosen to leave the path they set you on and find another. I know the Rakyat view it as a sign of who they are, a symbol of the warrior's path. It is very important to them and their beliefs. If you no longer feel yourself one of them, well then perhaps it has left you just as you have left them."

He couldn't really wrap his head around all that, not with everything he was already quietly trying to deal with and not snap like a twig. He wasn't sure what had happened or hadn't while he'd been on this damn island. Hell he didn't even know how long he'd been here. Vaas was alive? Citra had betrayed him? Had he really killed Liza? Tortured his little brother Riley? How could he have done such horrible things and if he had what the fuck? How could he live with that? Only a monster could do those things and Rohana had pretty much said he called himself a monster in his sleep so did that mean...Fuck! Trying to sort all the real memories from the fake ones was pointless. He couldn't do it himself. He needed answers from outside his head.

"It doesn't matter why its gone." he admitted for the first time. "I don't want it anymore. I'm tired of people fucking with my mind. From now on I can only trust one person and that's me. Not the me from the past, but the me from right now."

"So you don't trust me is that it?" she all but demanded with anger in her voice.

"No, I mean yes. I trust you. Of course I trust you. You took care of me. I just meant, ugh! Its hard to explain. Its like, I know I'm awake now, that this is all real, that its not a dream or some drug induced lie, this pain in here is real." placing his hand over his heart. "I hurt all the way to my soul and it won't stop. I've done horrible things. I need to know exactly what they were and just how bad. I won't be able to live with myself until I get the truth."

The old healer frowned, but gave a nod of understanding. "Yes I thought as much. I had hoped you might be able to just let it go and find a better path, but I fear for you. This truth you seek may bring more pain with it than you can bear. I do not want you to suffer any more."

"Aww how sweet of you." he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Think so?" she snickered wickedly. "Wait till you get my bill for fixing you up."

Jason was just about to make some sarcastic retort when the door to the shack burst open and a damp girl scrambled in and shut it behind her, leaning back against it. Jason cut his eyes to Rohana and could tell that she knew the girl so he relaxed. Looking her over she was a slender thing, mostly all legs with the barest hint of hips. She had to be a native, but her skin was far lighter than the others he's seen so far. It had the look of a very dark tan really, but it was her face that made her stand out the most. She looked exotic on a tropical island full of native women. Her straight black hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, but her bangs fell freely over her eyes with one side a bit longer than the other so that they seemed to frame her face. It was one of those hair styles women back in the States would spend hundreds of dollars to get and here this girl wore it naturally. Her eyes were almond shaped, and of all colors yellow? No that wasn't right, he looked closer and saw that they were a light amber color that contrasted so much with her dark skin and black hair that they seemed to almost glow. While Rohana and Jason sat staring at her curiously the young girl's words began rushing out.

"Rohana we have a problem! The pirates are looking for somebody! A white man! Going to every settlement and checking! They could be here any time! What are we going...to...do...um..." she saw Jason was not only awake but sitting up. The last time she'd been here he was still out cold, well not cold he had a fever still, but what was he doing sitting up and, and, and he was looking at her with eyes the color of pale emeralds. Wow he had green eyes.

Well that settled it Jason thought. Without the Tatau he was back to square one. He hadn't even heard the girl rushing to the shack, hadn't even reacted when she threw the door open. If she'd been one of the pirates he'd be dead right now. Fuck!

Jason did not look happy at all to Rika, in fact he looked angry. Had she interrupted something important? She looked from Jason to Rohana and then back again. Wait no, what she had to say was extremely important, but she couldn't bring herself to speak when he was staring at her with those green eyes so full of anger.

She had no way of knowing that at that moment Jason was focused on himself and was really just staring right through her.

It was Rohana that broke the silence. "You said a white man, but not a name." aiming her words at the teen.

Rika snapped out of it and turned to the old woman. "Yes. Up at the bar a few of the men were talking about it. Pirates are going around looking for a white man. That's all I heard, but who else could they be looking for but him?", pointing at Jason.

He came out of his own thoughts and processed what he'd just heard. "Why would they be looking for me?"

Rika, now freed from the trance of those angry eyes of his, looked at Jason like he was mentally challenged. "Leading a one man rebellion against them might have something to do with it.", her tone making it very clear how obvious it should be.

Before either of the younger ones could say another word Rohana stood. "Doesn't matter why. Only that they are, so we deal with that and leave the rest to roost." She turned to her small table and started going through her little boxes, gathering some of this and some of that. Folding little paper packets of powders and dried plants. Soon she had a neat little stack that she swept into a tiny pouch before turning back to the other two. "Rika here." Holding out the pouch to her.

"What do you - "

"Its medicine fool girl. Take it. You know how to prepare it. This is enough for a week. I'll have more by then and you can come get it."

Rika took the pouch hesitantly in one hand. "Rohana what is going on?"

Without bothering to answer the girl, the old woman turned to Jason and reached down to take both his hands in hers. His young strong hands dwarfed her old gnarled ones as she looked up at him. "You can not stay here. If you do they will find you. Go with Rika."

"Go with who? Wait a damn minute!" he demanded, looking down at the old woman in shock. "I don't know this kid and I'm not just going to follow her out of here because she says pirates are looking for me. Hell for all I know she's going to turn me into them first chance she gets."

Rika scoffed at the very idea loudly. "If I had wanted to do that I could have done it the first day they brought you here."

Rohana pulled on Jason's hands, drawing his attention back to her. "Rika has helped me since you first came here. I told you of her, of the young girl who often stopped by to check on you. She has been here many days taking care of you just as I have. I trust her. You should trust her Jason."

His name coming from her mouth drove it home. Rohana never used his name. He had just been _young man_ or _you_ , but never Jason. She was serious. "Ok." He took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain in his chest as the muscles rebelled at the pressure still. "If you say so then...ok."

Over by the door Rika was far from ok however. "So just like that I go from the person who might turn you in to trusting me with your life because some old lady says so? Speaking of old lady," she glowered at Rohana. "Just what do you think I'm going to do with him?"

Looking at the teen she grinned her almost toothless grin and said quite matter-of-factly, "Take him to your place of course. Nobody will look for him there. Only you and I even remember it exists I'll bet."

Rika's eyes went wider than they had a right to physically be able to. "What?"

Rohana let go of Jason's hands and all but shoved him towards Rika and the door. "Hurry now. You did say they could be here any time. Better get a move on."

"Wait I can't just walk out there like this. I mean I'll be seen." Jason pointed out, waving his hands up and down at himself. "Hello I'm the whitest guy on the island not in a cage I'm pretty damn sure."

Rika grabbed a handful of her own hair and pulled it hard, cursing to herself in her native tongue. After a few seconds she gave Rohana a baleful look before reaching for the door. "No you won't. Its still raining out a little and this place is never busy at all so yeah, right now would be great. Nobody would see you if we hurry up the slope away from the bar and then get across the road into the brush. After that its a two hour walk to my place." She gave him a critical look, making a point not to linger on his shirtless torso. "Think you can manage it? You were pretty banged up when you got here and all you've done for almost a month is lay on that cot."

Was she really giving him crap right now? Really? "Kid if I can't keep up with you then just leave me behind."

She was already regretting this. "Fine, but get this straight. My name is Rika, not kid."

"Whatever you say kid." Jason said as they stepped out of the shack and into the light rain. The storm was beginning to pick up again and thunder rolled in the distance.

Rohana was left to stand alone in her little shack. Looking around she wrung her hands and thought that it really was a tiny place after all. It had never occurred to her, not even in all the years after her husband left, not even after the death of her daughter, but yes this shack was a very small empty little space. Gingerly she lowered herself down so she was sitting on the cot, facing the door that the two young ones had only just left through.

"Spirits be with you Jason." After a moment she added, "With you as well Rika."


	6. Living with ghosts

It was easy enough to leave the cove and its meager cluster of shacks and the bar that dominated it. Rika lead the way, her bare feet sure even with the rain that now poured down. Jason was true to his word and kept up with her easily despite everything he'd been through. She was not disappointed at all by the fact, rather it further reinforced her opinion of him. This was Jason Brody, the outsider who had escaped Vaas and joined with the Rakyat to wage a bloody war against the evil men who had too long held her home in their grip. Rika was not too proud to admit to herself that she had a bit of hero worship going on. She knew next to nothing of the actual Jason Brody, but the stories, oh the stories painted him in such a way that she could not help but admire. This was the man who had killed that wicked slave lord on the Southern island.

She ducked under a crude bridge that spanned the narrow stream winding its way down from the cliffs higher up to the ocean below. It wasn't much of a bridge really, just some logs jammed into the ground and thick boards and tin laid across them in an overlapping pattern that afforded just enough support for the jeeps and trucks that most often traveled this way. Pausing her steps she leaned back against one of the rough logs and waited. Moments later Jason ducked under the bridge and joined her. He couldn't stand at all and had to hunch over while they were under it. She watched him closely, making sure he was doing alright. Rohana would have her head if he ended up pushing himself too hard after all the effort she'd put into his recovery.

"What are we waiting for?" he asked, his pale green eyes curious as they looked at her.

Pushing off from the log she turned to continue their trek. "Just letting you catch up." The little smile on her lips hidden as she put her back to him and stepped out from under the makeshift bridge and back into the rain.

Behind her Jason shot daggers into her slim back with his eyes. "Oh ha ha."

They moved on in silence after that, the mud pressing up between their toes as they climbed steadily upwards. The slope was gentle at first, but soon the soft grass and mud began to give way to rocks and spiky thickets of tall grass. Brushing against the waving green stalks was like getting a dozen paper cuts at once. Jason knew well to steer clear of them from past experience and he gave each patch a wide berth. Rika on the other hand moved through them with not a care in the world even barefooted as she was. He wondered how she did it and so he watched and sure enough after a while he caught on. She wasn't just walking through the tall grass so much as sliding through it. Instead of stepping down she was angling her foot and sweeping it to one side or the other, effectively laying down the tall grass and keeping the slicing edges away. Jason crouched down to examine some of the plants, feeling gingerly along the base of the grass and was surprised to find it rounded and dull. So only the top was sharp. He chalked it up to a the fact he'd been dazed out of his skull that he'd never noticed this little fact before. Not that the plants were dangerous themselves, just they hurt like Hell and any open wounds, even little ones, in a place like this could be very bad.

"Out of breath?" came a teasing little voice from up ahead.

He rolled his eyes and stood. "Bet you think you're funny kid."

Rika planted her fists on her barely developing hips and glared down at him from her vantage point further uphill. "I told you I am not a kid. My name is Rika." Her nostrils flared. "Rika. Try to understand that."

Jason held his hands up in surrender, a wry smile on his lips. "Yes ma'am Rika."

She spun around and marched off. Ok...so the hero worship was starting to have a few cracks she fumed to herself. This Jason Brody was not as she imagined him. Hearing all the stories, watching him lay in Rohana's shack, she had created this person in her head, this righteous warrior come from afar to the islands to bring an end to the evils her people had suffered through. The sort of evils that had taken her parents from her. No! Rika screwed her eyes shut against the memories. There was nothing to think about, not there, not with them. Nothing at all. Everything was in the now, her life was in the now. There was nothing that could hurt her anymore from then. No more tears. No more pain. She was safe in the now. Always in the now. Opening her eyes she kept moving. Heading up the slope with Jason Brody following behind. She let the rain wash her clean of the memories.

Jason still avoided the tall patches of grass despite his little discovery. He doubted he could move through them like the girl anyway. She'd grown up on the island, it was probably second nature to her. On the other hand he had no idea what he was going to do. Rohana just threw him in with this girl, but what was he supposed to do now? Just hide somewhere? Why? It wasn't like the pirates hadn't been looking for him since he'd stepped foot on the damn beach that first day.

 _"Got ya'self a real tit twister here eh Jason?"_

Darting a look to his right Jason froze in shock. Buck was standing beside him, arms crossed over his chest and that hideous deer tattoo that dominated it.

"What the fuck?" Jason stammered.

Buck put his finger to his own lips. _"Shh boy. Can't have people seeing you talking to ya'self now can we hmm?"_ Grinning broadly. _"Come on Jason. Keep up."_

Buck headed up the slope following Rika, humming a merry tune as he went. Jason blinked, even shook his head a few times, but when he looked up he still saw Buck, the rain seeming to have no effect on him. He looked dry as a bone and just as alive as the last time Jason had seen him, well before he'd stabbed him that is. That just wasn't possible. He scrambled to catch up with the pyscho. Rika turned to look back at him and Jason braced for it. Would she see Buck?

"Don't fall behind Jason Brody." This time her tone was not as friendly. Apparently she was still upset over the whole kid remark and she didn't pay Buck any attention at all. So she couldn't see him, not that it made Jason feel any better about what was going on.

 _"Oh ho ho that little sheila is on the outs with you mate."_ Buck chuckled.

Jason spoke low enough that he was sure Rika wouldn't hear him, despite that, his voice was laced with venom and all of it directed at Buck. "You aren't real."

Buck grinned slyly. _"You don't say? Fair enough then. Would explain the whole figment of your imagination thing wouldn't it now?"_ His chuckle grating on Jason's nerves. _"Oh don't be like that my boy. Think of me as just the part of you that you just won't accept, hmm? Am I right? The Id part of your idiot if you will. Ha Ha!"_

"God you are still an asshole." Jason lamented before realizing he was having a conversation with an imaginary person.

 _"Oi, Jason! I'm hurt."_ Buck lamented, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. _"I'm not imaginary. I'm as real as you, cause you know, I'm part of you. Fucked up right? I know, I know...Not like you want me running around in your head, eh? Things we do Jason...that's the ticket. Its the things we do that change us. You have to admit you've changed haven't you my boy?"_

Jason was starting to wonder if he was still doped on something. Maybe one of Rohana's remedies had some sort of side effect. "How are you even here?"

Buck let out an exasperated sigh. _"Jason, I'm not here. We both know that, because we're both the same person. Like I said I'm just part of your brain. Somewhere deep down where you won't go. The cellar of your consciousness if you will. Where you keep all the dark ugly things locked up, get it?"_ He asked, tapping his own head with a finger. _"I'm only a manifestation of your dark little places where you fear to tread my boy. Places you don't want to go, things you don't want to deal with."_

"Bullshit. Killing you is something I'll enjoy thinking about for the rest of my life." Jason bragged.

Buck touched his chest, hand over his heart. _"That hurts Jason, really. I mean what did I ever do to you?"_

"You know damn well what you did!" His voice almost loud enough to reach Rika's ears.

 _"Calm yourself Jason."_ Buck warned. _"Can't have the little sheila think you're crazy now can we. After all she's already upset with you as is."_

Both of them turned to watch Rika leading the way a few yards ahead of them. The rain had long ago drenched her from head to toe and her high ponytail lay plastered to her neck and her clothes were little more than a second skin.

 _"Not much meat on her bones eh?"_ Buck chided Jason with a sly grin. _"Not that she's my cup of tea know what I mean."_ His laughter should have been loud enough to turn Rika's head, but she marched on unaware of Jason and his unwanted guest.

"Fuck you." Jason spat to the phantom Buck.

 _"Though I suppose with the right fella at the wheel she could be workable. Young thing like that, untouched, soft, ready to learn. Let's face it Jason all a bloke really needs is a nice warm place to - "_

"Don't go there." Jason growled low in his throat. For an instant a glimpse of the man who had killed hundreds, who had slaughtered his way through both islands rose to the surface.

Buck raised his hands, waving away Jason's ire. _"Calm down. Not like I can do anything to her or would for that matter. I think we both know where my interests lie. All you had to do was ask your pal Keith."_ he said with a dark chuckle.

"Goddamn it I so want to kill you again." Jason admitted.

 _"All in good time Jason my boy, all in good time. If you taught me anything it's that you always find a way. Now speaking of ways, let's talk about whys. As in why am I walking and talking to you from the depths of your brain."_

Jason calmed down, wanting to understand that himself. "Good question."

 _"It's like I told you Jason. I'm just here to give a voice to the things you've been avoiding. Granted you did need a bit of a nap after that business with the Rakyat, but admit it my boy, you've been avoiding things. Pretending all was right in the world, eh? Thinking the sun was going to rise over your little fairy tale and all would be well. Sorry Jason, but that ain't going to happen. Bearer of bad news and all that."_ Winking at Jason as they walked.

"I'm not avoiding anything. I'm going to get to the bottom of things. First I'm going to - "

 _"Oh sod off Jason."_ Buck rolled his eyes. _"What are you going to do, eh? Walk into the temple and ask Citra and all her warriors if she tried to kill you? If your friends and brother are dead? All polite like, hmmm? Little tip of your hat and a handshake?"_

"...I...Well..." Jason floundered.

 _"Fucking Christ Jason! Where is the fella that walked into the bar and demanded Keith back? Where is the fella that put a knife in me because he fucking wanted to, eh? Did the bitch cut your balls off before she stabbed you?"_

Under Buck's rant, Jason began to falter. "Look...I...I don't know what's real anymore. Things are all fucked up in my head."

 _"No arguments from me Jason, my boy. Fuck right I say. I am here talking to you now after all, eh? Doesn't say much for your state of mind does it?"_ Grinning broadly. _"Still doesn't change things though. Sorry to tell you, but there are a few things you know for sure."_

"Like what?"

Buck held up a finger as he made each point. _"First off we know you fucked up where your friends and brother are concerned. Right fucking mess you made there. I mean yeah, I took some liberties with Keith, but I kept him fed. Roof over his head. Let him scream all he liked."_ Chuckling again.

Jason wondered if he could kill an imaginary person.

Buck cut his gaze over and grinned all the more. _"You can try my boy, but who knows how that would affect you, eh? Killing a fella a second time, specially when he's part of your brain. Could cause some serious Freudian shit to go pop in that head of yours."_

Well there wasn't really any argument Jason could make against that.

Buck went on, lifting a second finger. _"We know Citra betrayed you my boy. Women...am I right?"_ This time smiling from ear to ear. _"You were there humping away. Blame it on the haze all you want, but you know it happened. You just don't want it to be true because that means you got played. Trust me I know a thing or two about playing people, but then you know that, eh."_ Another finger went up. _"We also know you killed your girl Liza."_

"No I didn't!" Jason hissed, keeping his voice down. "I'd never do that."

 _"Jason, Jason, Jason."_ Buck admonished with a frown. _"You can't lie to me. Remember the whole me being part of you thing, eh? I know what you know. Fact is I know what you refuse to admit you know. Fucked up as it sounds so I wouldn't think on it too long. Might drive you insane."_ Laughing again at Jason's expense. _"Much as you like you can't change it my boy. You slit Liza's throat of your own volition. With my knife I might add."_ Sounding a little put out. _"The rest of them I can't say though. Neither of us remember what happened after we cut Liza out of the picture so to speak. We blacked out."_

Jason had to admit that he had no memory between Liza and then being with Citra.

 _"Right. Lost time as it were. Now that is what we need to sort out. The unaccounted for span between our complete betrayal of our little gang and the pussy pounding you were giving Citra."_

"Why is it our betrayal, but only me with Citra?" Jason asked.

Buck stopped in his tracks and just stared at Jason blankly. Then it hit him like a rock. "Right. Dumb question. You aren't into women."

Buck mimed a pistol with his hand and shot Jason. _"Right you are my boy."_

"Wait, but if you are part of me does that mean - " Jason didn't even get a chance to finish his words.

Buck doubled over laughing. Jason looked from him to Rika as she moved further up the slope. He knew if they didn't get a move on she'd turn around to check on him. His first thought was to reach out and haul Buck up the slope, but he faltered. Could he even touch him and if so what in the Hell did that mean about his sanity? He didn't want to find out.

Buck stood up, wiping tears from his eyes. _"No worries Jason, you're a ladies man through and through. Now let's catch up with the sheila before she gets all snoopy on us."_

The two of them, one of them?...made their way up the slope, cutting the distance between them and Rika, but still keeping back far enough to talk.

 _"You know you don't have to talk Jason. I know what you're thinking and she can't hear me. Could always just do things that way."_ Buck offered.

"Something tells me that would do even more damage to my sanity." Jason admitted.

 _"More than talking to a dead rapist?"_ Buck said, then frowned. _"Rapist? Oi! Now that's not very nice. Putting words in my mouth like that. Shame on you Jason."_

"See this is what I'm talking about. It's bad enough you're even here, but the idea that you can read my mind is just creepy." Jason explained, keeping a wary eye on Rika's back.

 _"Ah but I can read your mind, because your mind made me, well this version of me."_ Buck rubbed his jaw in thought or was it Jason thinking while the phantom Buck rubbed a jaw that didn't exist? _"Right, I see your point Jason. Fair enough. Let's pretend I'm here and not dwell on the psycho babble as to the hows."_

"Agreed." Jason was quick with that word.

 _"So then let's get to the real question Jason my boy. What are you going to do?"_

They walked in silence for a good while before Jason turned, about to tell Buck his decision. Only Buck was already grinning before Jason even said a word.

 _"I like it my boy. I really do. Just like old times, eh? Me and you fucking shit up. Well more you than me since I can't actually do anything."_ Another little chuckle. _"Well, I guess it is just like the old days then. So when do we get started? By we I mean you of course. I'm sure you don't want me hanging around all the time."_

"Damn right I don't."

Buck nodded sagely. _"Well then I suppose you best get to sorting your shit out then. Cause as long as you hide from things I'm not going anywhere. Besides I'm the least of your worries for now."_

"What does that mean?" Jason asked hesitantly.

 _"Trust me my boy you don't want to know."_ Buck's words trailed off.

Jason looked around and found Buck had vanished. Thunder rolled overhead and the rain was heavy and warm on his bare skin. He wiped a hand down his face and turned to catch up with Rika. Coming up beside her he was quiet, turning things over in his head.

Rika sensed that something was not right with the tall man beside her, but didn't ask him. She knew that sometimes a person needed space to deal with things. She'd needed a lot of space herself and still did often. Together they kept a good pace now, moving up the slope and soon they were swallowed by the jungle. Only Rika and Rohana knew the path to her home from here on, so they could relax. Nobody was going to find them now.

 **→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←**

"Go. See to the outposts to the East. We can not afford to lose them. Vaas and his pirates must be driven back at all costs." Citra ordered the Rakyat kneeling before her from her vantage atop the stairs of the inner courtyard. These were her warriors. The fiercest of the Rakyat. The white sashes they wore marked them as elite and to be feared. They would crush her brother's men like the pigs they were.

"We obey!" They shouted in unison, thirty strong and ready to fight, the group rose and quickly left her sight. Only the mission mattered to them, only pleasing their goddess was important. They lived for Citra and only Citra.

Turning away from the courtyard and its soft grass Citra walked slowly towards the furthest end of the temple. Her bare feet knowing every stone, every crack, for she had passed this way many times in her life. It had always been a special place to her, a part of the temple that none were allowed save her. The war goddess of the Rakyat. The seer of the path. The one who knew the way to the center, to the heart of a person's soul. Yet now she felt no comfort as she drew closer to the circular dais that dominated the the end of the walkway. Beyond it a stone arch rose and through it the azure waters of the ocean spread as far as the eye could see. She was careful to skirt the dais, not even looking at it now. In the past she would have stood atop it, staring out over the entire temple, the surrounding jungle, and the ocean with a feeling of contentment. She would have known all was right in the world. Then her brother had betrayed her, betrayed them all. She knew that her people should come first in her thoughts, yet she could not help but feel it deep in her heart. Vaas had abandoned her. His flesh and blood. How could he do that?

"The way you forced your warrior to abandon his family?" a voice whispered on the wind.

Citra flinched, her eyes drawn to the dais now as if pulled by some unseen force. The last time she had been here was with Jason. The feeling of him inside her still haunted her dreams and often she would wake with a needful ache that she knew could not be filled. She consoled herself with the understanding that she'd done what had to be done for her people. Now the future of the Rakyat was secure. The child Jason had given her would lead them into a grand tomorrow.

"Betrayal." another voice whispered from the stones beneath her feet.

Her brows furrowed. "No."

"A brother turns against his blood by your command." This voice whispering from the vines growing along the edges of the temple walls.

Citra turned this way and that, hugging herself as doubt began to uncoil itself in her gut. "No! I did what had to be done! I saved my people!"

"You saved yourself." This voice hissed at her feet.

Citra looked down and with a start darted back from the emerald green snake coiled there. It's head rose to observe her, weaving an intricate pattern as its cold black eyes looked seemingly right into her soul.

"Fear cloaks your soul." the snake seemed to hiss at her.

Lower lip quivering, Citra reached to the small of her back and the knife hidden there. Drawing the blade she faced the snake, but made no move towards it.

"No!" she all but screamed. "I am not afraid!"

The snake's head leaned back, almost touching the rest of its coiled body before it darted at her quick as thought. She did not even have time to scream, any thought of defending herself broke like the waves against the rocks below the temple. She felt the sting as the snake's fangs bit deep into her thigh and then it was gone as if it had never existed. She stumbled back, tripping against the raised edge of the dais, falling flat on her back. She lay there panting and breaking out in a cold sweat. Slowly, after she was able to gather her wits, she raised herself up and looked down at her thigh. Instead of a snake bite she was met with the sight of rivulets of blood running down her leg and not just the one, but both of them.

"This...no...it is not possible." she began to sob.

"Your woman's blood flows freely. You are without child." the wind taunted her as it washed over her body, chilling her all the more despite its warmth.

Citra wanted to argue. She wanted to say something, anything that would prove the words of the jungle wrong. Yet, the proof was right there. It was her time to bleed and she was. She had known of women that could carry a child and still bleed each month, but something told her the jungle's words were true. She collapsed back upon the dais and instantly she was flooded with the memory of Jason above her. Thrusting into her. Offering her his seed. His soul. His love.

She rolled onto her side, coiling into herself like a child, arms hugging her knees to her chest. Yes...his love. Jason had loved her. He'd chosen her over his friends. Over the woman Liza. Over his own brother. Pain crawled up her throat and she became aware of the fact she was crying. Huge chest wracking sobs and wails that scraped their way out of her. She buried her face as best she could between her arms and her knees and let her body have its way.

"Vaas abandoned you, but you made another." A bird passing overhead screeched down at her in accusation.

"...no.."

"Yes." The stone of the dais itself affirmed with authority. The temple now joining the jungle in its condemnation of her. "You turned the warrior into Vaas."

"...it...it isn't true..."

"Vaas lost his mind because of the actions of another. The warrior lost his in the same way. You drove him to greater and greater violence."

"...he was to be the greatest warrior...our greatest..." Citra whimpered.

"A warrior is violence, but a warrior is just. A warrior is righteous and his blade delivers justice to the wicked."

She cringed under the weight of the words.

"The warrior did all that you asked for our people. The Rakyat were as one under his voice. They were united behind his blade."

A glimmer of hope took root in her chest and she lifted her damp eyes to the sky. "Yes. He was perfect."

"STILL YOU DEMANDED MORE!" The booming thunder in the distance accused.

She cried out in fear and scrambled off the dais on her hands and knees, leaving spots of her blood to mark her passage. She fell back against the low wall that surrounded the dais and pressed herself hard against the ancient stonework. Her eyes were drawn to the bright red blood that seemed to shine on the dais. Jason's blood had seemed so dark before. As he lay dying under her it had pooled around her knees. She could still feel the warmth of it even now. Absently she rubbed at her knees as if she could wipe away the memory of his blood though it was long gone.

"It was never for our people. Never for the Rakyat..." the dais seethed. "You could not accept the loss of your brother so you fashioned the warrior in his image. You broke his mind. You forced him to abandon his family just as Vaas had abandoned you. To betray everything he knew, everything he fought for, everything precious left to him. You forced the warrior to make a choice he never should have. You took from him all that was left of his soul and that is why you are barren now. You can not take from a man what is gone. The warrior had nothing left to give you because you had already taken everything from him."

Citra's sobs prevented her from talking, her anguish too complete.

Every stone in the temple seemed to thrum with a voice then. Thousands of them speaking in unison, accusing, beseeching, demanding, commanding, and condemning her all at once. It was too much and she fell over, hands covering her ears as she wailed and cried out. It was too much. Her own sanity began to twist and turn by a thread that was fraying every moment under the assault. Then it was done. Silence ruled. Fearfully she pulled her hands away, wary of another onslaught, but none came. Slowly she crawled toward the dais and lay her cheek against the warm stone under the sun's glow.

"...I...I have failed. What can...can I do?" she beseeched the voices. Giving herself over to the spirits of her ancestors.

"Find the center." came the whisper. "You have strayed from the path and must find it again."

She pushed herself up, not really looking at anything, but staring ahead. "I do not understand." In truth she had an inkling of what the voices wanted, but she needed to be sure. It would be something she had not attempted in a very long time.

"This temple has too long been your refuge against the world." the voices spoke sternly now in unison. The sky, the earth, the ocean, the very stones she lay upon, all as one. "The path must be walked. Your steps have not left this temple for too long. You have halted your way. Your path awaits. You must seek it. You must find the center once more."

Citra wiped at her eyes with the back of one hand. Once she could see clearly she stood on shaky legs and walked over to her knife. She must have dropped it when the snake lunged at her. To think that a Rakyat warrior would do such a thing. It was true, she had lost her way. Her own weakness had stolen a great warrior from her people. She had done horrible things to Jason and all he had ever done for her was everything she asked. Looking over at the dais she felt a sharp pain of loss. How could she have taken his life? She could have been with him now. They could have lead the Rakyat together. Raised their children together. Why had she been so foolish?

"Because I was greedy." she admitted aloud. "I wanted all of him. I wanted to know that he would not leave me as Vaas had. I made sure Jason could never leave me by taking his life. I thought with his child he would always be with me." Her gaze fell to the knife she held and its wickedly sharp edge. The impulse to thrust it into her own chest sprang to mind, but she squashed it instantly. "No. I will not take the easy way out. I have much to atone for. I will go and I will find the center."

She took a step and nearly fell. Bracing against the low stone wall she took another, then another, and finally she was moving on her own. Her feet growing sure, her face firm with determination. Her blade slid home in its sheath before she entered the temple corridor. Moving through the cool passage she gathered her thoughts. The tribe could not know she was without child. They would doubt her and that could not happen, not now when Vaas and his damn pirates were pressing them harder than ever before. The Rakyat needed to know she was still in charge, that she was without flaw. If they knew how badly she had failed them there was no telling what they would do to her, much less what would happen to them in this struggle. No, the Rakyat must remain strong and for that they must also remain ignorant for now. Once things were finally settled and the islands were free then she would stand before them and expose herself. She would give them their justice.

Only time was not on her side. If she did not show that a child was growing within her soon they would know the truth. She had to act quickly. There was no time, she must be bold.

First she went to her chambers and washed herself of the blood and tears. Cleansing her body and readying her mind and spirit. Once she had applied cloth to deal with the bleeding she donned a pair of soft leather pants that formed to her like a glove. Next she pulled on a similar shirt of soft leather as well, both a faded brown color, decorated with tribal symbols that had been branded into the leather. Her feet remained bare. She took up several knives just like the one at her lower back. She strapped one to each thigh and a third to her hip, granting her four knives in all. Moving across the chamber she took up a bow, it was a traditional Rakyat hunting bow and strong enough to bring down a bear with the right shot. She tested it and found that it took all her strength to draw the string back. Her arms began to shake and her muscles burned with the effort of holding the bow drawn. Relaxing the draw she sighed. Yes, she had fallen very far from the path. Moments later she had a quiver slung over her shoulder and the bow in hand. She left her chambers without looking back.

The outer courtyard was bustling with warriors training or resting. The huge tree that shrouded the courtyard with its wide branches stood silently watching over everything. Dennis was chatting with a warrior about shifting some of their men to watch the roads North of the temple when he caught sight of Citra striding towards them. Excusing himself he moved to meet her. He could not help but admire the picture she struck garbed as she was. His love for her grew all the more. What a woman!

"Citra!" He waved a greeting. "I am here."

She stopped as he drew near. At the sound of her name every eye turned towards them. Dennis enjoyed this part most of all. He knew he was second only to Citra where the tribe was concerned. Even as an outsider they treated him with respect and looked to him for guidance. Seeing him standing with her only reinforced that notion. Though the tribe was important to him it was with Citra that his true loyalty lay. He would do anything for her, even if it meant helping with Jason Brody. That was a painful memory and Dennis shoved it aside. After all Jason Brody was gone and Citra once more looked to him and him alone.

"Dennis, I have an important task for you. It will not be easy, but I have faith that you can endure it." Her words were strong and they gave him a swell of pride.

"Everyone!" Citra lifted her voice so all could hear her. "I must go."

Gasps of shock and murmurs filled the air. Dennis's eyes went wide behind his glasses. "Go? Go where Citra?"

"The jungle calls to me." She explained in her commanding voice. "There are things only I can do. Things our people need. I must return to the center. To the heart of everything. Our ancestors demand it and I must heed their call."

This seemed to settle things for the Rakyat warriors. The goddess was the bridge between this world and the next. She was the speaker of wisdom gleaned from the places of the dead. They would not question her words. Dennis on the other hand was beside himself with frantic worry.

"No! This can not be." he pleaded. "Let me come with you. I will bring warriors. We will protect you Citra."

"No." The word fell from her lips like a commandment from the gods. The finality of it destroyed any further arguments from him. She saw how crestfallen Dennis was and she lay a hand on his cheek. He could not help but press into the warmth of her palm.

"Dennis remember I said I have a task for you. It is as great as what I will undertake. Can you do this for me Dennis?"

Without even knowing what it was she would ask of him he stood straight and nodded with surety. "I would give my life for you."

Citra smiled at him. She knew his feelings towards her, but she could not return them. There had been many times she'd wished that she could for he was a strong warrior and had given himself to the Rakyat entirely. Which was why she knew she could trust him with her next words. "Dennis, while I am gone you will lead our people."

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. Dennis stood mouth agape for a moment, then he remembered where he was and who was talking to him and that every eye was on them. He drew his knife, a large military combat blade, from its place on his hip and raised it high into the air. "I swear to you Citra that I will do as you command. Our people will not falter for I will give them all that I am. I will do this for you our goddess."

Every Rakyat in the courtyard gave a shout, lifting their weapons into the air as well. Citra was pleased by the display.

"Dennis I will return once I have satisfied the will of the jungle. Until then, know that I entrust you with all that is the Rakyat." She bore into him with her green eyes. He swallowed thickly and knew that this woman was the only one he would ever love. There could be no other.

"I am yours Citra. I am Rakyat." he proclaimed softly to her.

She gave him a smile and for him it was more than he deserved. Then she walked away. Her bare feet just as silent as always on the stones. She headed towards the main gates and they parted at her approach. The heavy stones grinding loudly as she passed through them and into the clearing that lay before the jungle. Behind her she heard the gates swing shut again with a resounding thud. She was outside and alone. She could feel eyes on her from the top of the temple walls, but nobody said anything. They did not call out to her, did not wish her well, did not tell her to return safely or quickly. They only watched as their goddess stood looking at the lush growth that was the jungle surrounding the temple. How long had it been since she'd been outside the protective walls of the temple? Years. Not since she was a young girl and they'd declared her able to talk with the spirits. Not since before Vaas has left her all alone with their people. The overwhelming urge to turn back enveloped her. She wanted to throw herself against the gates and demand they let her back in. Only that couldn't happen. They couldn't see her weakness. She couldn't give into it. No she had only one course now. Just one choice. Find the path. Seek the center. Make amends for what she'd done and find someway to save her people before it was too late.

Citra took a deep breath and strode towards the jungle with a purpose and was soon swallowed by its green depths.


	7. Reality check

Dennis drove the heavy farm truck along the hard packed dirt road, the diesel engine growling as he shifted gears. In the back Daisy, Oliver, and Keith sat sullenly staring at their feet. On both sides and across from them sat Rakyat warriors with AK-47s. They had been taken from the temple and put in the back of the old truck without a single word from their captors.

Oliver leaned over to Daisy, keeping his voice low. "We been driving forever man. What the Hell?"

She cut a quick look at the men holding them captive, but they didn't seem to care if they talked to each other. They weren't even tied up or anything. "I don't know. I just...I don't have any answers ok." She snapped at him.

"Harsh." The stoner hummed before giving her some space.

Daisy hated taking it out on Oliver, but she really didn't have the patience to deal with him and his fogged mentality right now. Between the three of them she knew that she had the clearest mind. Oliver was high even when he wasn't partaking in the many many drugs he so loved and Keith...

She just couldn't bring herself to rely on Keith or to blame him in any way. Nobody had said anything when Jason had brought him to the cave, but in the days following Daisy had pieced together a few things and she felt she had a pretty good idea of what Keith had been through. Looking over at him now made her heart heavy. The once brash and flashy Keith was reduced to a trembling mess of a man who just sat huddled into himself as if the world would just ignore him if he kept his head down.

So that left only her to handle whatever was going to happen when the truck reached its destination. As if on cue everyone in the back lurched forward when the powerful diesel engine geared down. The brakes gave a screech in protest and the big truck came to a shuddering stop.

Dennis left it idling as he climbed down from the cab and strolled to the back. Looking up at those sitting there he waved them down with both hands. "Come. We are here." His thick accent flavoring his words.

Keith cringed away when one of the Rakyat reached for him. Daisy quickly stepped between them, the warrior glaring at her.

"I'll get him down. Just let me ok?" She implored.

With a snort the warrior turned and hopped down from the truck. Daisy gave all her attention to Keith, crouching down to meet his eyes. "Keith sweetie. I need you to come with me. Can you do that?" She made sure to keep her voice soft, comforting.

He gave a tiny wail in the back of his throat. He'd thought the nightmare was over after Jason saved him, that he could come back from everything, but then the warriors had come and all that went to shit. He'd been there, he'd seen it go down. Jason...Jason had straight up slit Liza's throat and then that crazy woman..."She killed Riley." Not even aware he'd gone from thinking to speaking. "She just...just...oh my God..." Keith began to cry.

Below Dennis called up. "Time is short and you must come down. Nothing will happen to you. I give you my word."

Oliver loped over to the edge of the truck bed and hopped down, joining Dennis and the six warriors. After nobody shot him he raised his hands and grinned broadly. "Yo guys its all cool. See?"

Daisy bit back the urge to throttle Oliver. As much as she liked the guy, sometimes he was just too much. Instead she gently laid a hand on Keith, feeling him flinch under her touch. "I know. I was there. I saw what you saw. I understand." Hoping to get through to him.

He glared at her with bloodshot eyes. "Yeah?" His voice cracking. "So I'm the only one who can't handle his shit is that it?"

"No Keith it's not like that. All of us are more than a little screwed up right now." She offered him with a soft smile meant to calm him.

"Oliver seems fine."

She didn't bite her tongue this time. "Oliver has about three working brain cells and we both know that." She saw the slightest glimmer of a grin tug at the corners of his mouth. "We've all been through Hell Keith. We can't change that, but we can focus on the here and now. On what we can do ok?"

He sniffled a little, never taking his eyes off her's. "Kay."

"Good. So let's get down from this truck and see what comes next." She stood, holding her hand out to him. "Together."

He took it and stood slowly. Together they climbed down from the truck bed and looked at the warriors apprehensively.

Dennis moved towards the three of them, raising his hands to show he meant them no harm. There was a swagger to his movements, but other than that he didn't present them with a threat.

"You are a very brave woman. Strong in mind and body." He said to Daisy earnestly. "In another time and place you would have been welcomed into the tribe."

"Like Hell." She snarled at him.

The same warrior that had glared at her up in the truck darted forward and rammed the butt of his rifle into her stomach. She doubled over and did everything she could not to puke. Dennis lashed out like a viper, his fist sending the warrior to the ground sprawling. The other warriors tensed, but did not move. The fallen warrior tasted blood in his mouth as he lifted himself up on his elbows. Dennis stood over him, machete in hand, the tip barely an inch from the warrior's nose. The Liberian's face was livid with rage.

"You would strike an unarmed woman?" He demanded angrily. "Do her words cut you so deeply that you would shame yourself before your brothers? We are not Vaas and his men! We are better! We are Rakyat!"

The warrior shrank beneath Dennis's words. "I am sorry."

Dennis leaned down and jerked the man to his feet by the jacket he wore. He drug him along, the man stumbling behind him, until they stood before Daisy where she was doing all she could to just breathe at this point.

"Do not offer me your apology." He pointed at Daisy with his machete. "She is the one wronged here. Make amends to her."

The warrior did not hesitate even a moment. "I am very sorry. So very sorry." His voice small and ashamed.

Daisy drew in a huge gulp of air and stood. It hurt and her vision swam, but she stood and looked at the warrior before her.

Dennis slapped the warrior across the back of his head. Then looked at Daisy with true regret. "I am so very sorry that happened. This is not our way."

Without a word Daisy lay into the warrior with a kick to his groin. She gave it everything she had and every man, even dopey Oliver, groaned in shared empathy for the man's pain. With a shrill little whine the warrior fell over and curled into a ball. Stepping back, Daisy readied herself for pay back for her actions. Instead Dennis laughed long and hard. It was the kind of laugh that made you want to join in. Oliver actually was, along with the rest of the Rakyat warriors.

Dennis half turned to the warriors, gesturing at Daisy. "You see? It is as I said. She has the fire of a warrior." Looking back at the blonde woman he sighed deeply. "Is is a shame you could not have met our people under different circumstances. What do they say?" Touching his chest with a finger, then lifting it to twirl a circle in the air before him. "It is what it is?

She was able to speak without her voice breaking despite the burning pain in her gut. "Let's just get on with it. So what is this anyway?" Thrusting her chin at the warriors still standing with their rifles at the ready.

Dennis threw his arms wide and bowed to them slightly. "You are free to go."

Oliver stumbled over to stand beside Daisy, one hand pointing at Dennis while the other pointed away from him. "So we can like just...Go? Like leave? No shitting? You're just gonna let us walk man? Cause no lie that would be awesome." Grinning from ear to ear like a loon.

"Bullshit." Daisy retorted.

Dennis tilted his head and gave her a casual look from behind his glasses. "There is only one way to know for sure." He shooed them with a hand. "Go."

She just wasn't buying it. The moment they made a break for it they'd be gunned down for sure. "Why just let us go?"

Because Citra has no more need of you Dennis thought, but what he said was, "You are no longer required."

"Required?" Daisy mimed, completely at a loss. These people had gone out of their way to get them and take them to that damn temple and now they were just letting them go? It didn't make any sense.

"You no longer have a part to play. You are free. Why do you hesitate? Do you wish to remain prisoners? Hmmm? To wait for the whims of others to decide your fate?" Dennis twirled the machete with a long practiced ease. "I can always return you to that if such an arrangement suits you."

Keith spoke up for the first time since exiting the truck. "No! No please!" He looked at Daisy, his eyes pleading with her. "We'll go. We'll go right now." Practically begging. More than one of the warriors looked away, uncomfortable at the sight of a grown man in such a state.

Oliver stood swaying, looking from Daisy to Keith and then to Dennis. Daisy saw that she was going to lose this fight and her shoulders sagged.

"Fine." She caved.

Dennis smiled, showing almost all of his white teeth. "This is a good thing. I did not want to shackle you honestly, now that there is no need to do so. I am glad we can part ways."

"On that much we agree." Daisy muttered under her breath. Loud enough for Dennis to hear she asked, "So can you at least tell us where we are?"

Pointing with the machete, Dennis answered. "To the West that is your path. You must leave the territories of the tribe. As much as I may respect your bravery you must know that if you are found within our lands again you will be killed on sight. This is not a threat, only fact."

The three former prisoners all looked West and saw nothing but the swell of hills, outcroppings of rock, jungle and the road they now stood on winding its way into the distance until it vanished around a hill. The sun was high over head and the heat combined with the humidity was sweltering.

"That's a death sentence." Daisy accused Dennis as she glared at him. "We don't have any food. No water. Not even a weapon to defend ourselves. You might as well shoot us right now."

"Don't listen to her!" Keith all but shrieked as he rushed towards Dennis. Only the warriors raising their rifles stopped him in his tracks. "Please man just let us go please!"

Dennis thought on the woman's words and then turned to the warriors and spoke to them in their native tongue. Two stepped forward and handed items over to him. Turning back to the three Americans he walked to Daisy. First he held out two canteens with straps.

"Water. Enough for three, perhaps four days if you ration it. You should be able to find more." When Daisy didn't take them he shoved them into her arms. Next he produced five little bricks wrapped in wax paper. They had markings stamped on them, but Daisy couldn't read them. "These are military rations taken from an outpost once held by the pirates. They do not use them so they leave them. We are not so foolish as to waste food of any kind. Each one has everything you need for a day. Use them wisely until you find food of your own." He piled the bricks on top of the canteens and it was a juggling act for Daisy to keep everything from falling.

Dennis leaned towards her a bit. "I do not think the other two will get very far without your strength so I am entrusting you with the supplies. I think you understand I am right yes?"

She couldn't argue that point at all, as much as she would like to. With a little bit of finagling she got the canteens slung over her shoulder and the bricks shoved into the pockets of her pants. It wasn't the most comfortable way to carry them, but for now it had to do.

"Don't expect a thank you." She dared with a fire in her eyes.

"Woman you are something else. Mmmm!" Dennis kissed his finger tips and touched them to his forehead. "I would like to meet the man who could tame such a creature as you."

That struck a nerve and Daisy spoke without thinking. "Too bad that Vaas already fucking killed him and as far as I'm concerned this entire goddamn island can fuck off."

Dennis straightened his back and regarded her with a sadness in his eyes. To have endured so much, to have lost so much, and she still had the will to lash out. She was truly a rare woman. Dennis felt a pang of regret at his own part in her tragedy, but he knew that Citra's will was absolute and even if he were not Rakyat he would follow her. Love was also absolute after all.

He flipped the machete in his hand, catching the blade and offered the handle to her. Daisy looked at him, clearly shocked at his actions.

"What has happened can never change. Only what comes, the tomorrow that has yet to be, only that do we have a chance of shaping. It is not much I know, but it is something." Again offering her the machete with a little waggle of his hand. "At least try." There was no deception in his eyes. "For those lost. Try for them."

Daisy swallowed the lump in her throat and fought back against the pain that swelled in her chest. It dwarfed the burning ache in her gut by miles and it gave her the power to do what needed to be done. Her hand took the machete from Dennis and she let it fall to her side, but her grip on it was so tight her knuckles were white.

Dennis smiled and nodded several times. "I would wish you well, but I know you want nothing more to do with me or the tribe. So instead I will remove us from you as quickly as possible. It is the least I can do."

With that he jogged back to the cab of the truck and climbed up into the driver's seat. The warriors all piled back into the bed. Two of them helping their still suffering comrade up onto the truck. With a roar the diesel engine wound up and the heavy farm truck moved forward, then turned to head back the way it had come. As it circled the three of them Dennis spared Daisy one last look and saluted her with two fingers, that big smile still on his lips.

The truck soon vanished and left the three of them alone on the road.

Oliver twirled around, arms stretched out. "Woo! We are free at last free at last! Yeah!"

Daisy stepped over to a large rock that divided the road and leaned against it. She was drained both physically and mentally. There was no way, just no way anybody could deal with everything they'd been through. She felt a presence beside her and looked over to find Keith standing just looking at her. He couldn't seem to stop shaking despite the heat. She knew what caused it and didn't dare bring the matter up. She'd let him do that when he was ready.

"So what now?" He asked softly.

"Yeah oh fearless leader." Oliver trundled over with a silly grin.

Daisy gave him a sour look. "I'm not your fearless leader. First off I'm scared like any sane person would be and second I am not anybody's leader."

Oliver chuckled. "I don't know man. That guy seemed to think you had some like hairy balls on you for a chick. I mean he pretty much gave you everything we need right?"

Daisy looked down at the canteens, the machete, and the bulging pockets of her pants that held what passed for their food. Crap she thought.

Keith rubbed his arms as if he were freezing even though his shirt was drenched with sweat. "Hey I'm ok with that. Between the three of us Daisy you are the least...fucked up." He admitted bitterly.

She lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I know better than that Keith. You'll see. I have faith in you. I know how strong you can be."

Her words echoed Jason's, but that seemed like so very long ago to him. "Kay." Was all he could muster.

Pushing off the rock she adjusted the canteens and looked around. "Well I guess the road is a good bet. If we follow it we're bound to run into some kind of settlement. A town maybe. Anything has to be better than trying our luck in that jungle."

They all looked at the lush and vibrant jungle that swarmed over most of the island and felt like a thousand eyes were watching them. Just waiting for them to come in so they could be devoured.

"Road." Both guys said in unison.

So they started their trek down the dirt road. Daisy flanked on either side by the others. It was easy going along the road and they set a good pace as the sun began its descent. After a few hours Oliver swiped his cap across his forehead and huffed.

"Dude its soooo hot." He whined. "Like why is it so hot all the time?" He was pouring sweat just like the others.

Daisy had given up wiping the sweat from her face and just let it roll down to drip from her chin. "It's a tropical island so I'm guessing that has something to do with it." She ignored the petulant face the stoner made.

Keith only walked in silence. He'd stopped shaking, but he was still a bit twitchy. Every time they heard a bird call or some odd noise in the distance he'd freeze up for a moment before getting himself under control.

"I'm thirsty." Oliver whined and not for the first time on this particular topic.

"Same as before Oliver, no." Daisy calmly said.

"Hey like...a fourth..no wait...third. Yeah third of that water is mine right? So I want some of my water." He reasoned as he walked in front of Daisy, but turning so he could back peddle to look at her.

She was starting to loose her patience for real. Between the heat, the stress of the unknown, Keith's situation, and Oliver's seemingly obliviousness to everything going on she was quickly reaching a boiling point. However she once again for the dozenth time explained things in what she hoped was a calm voice. "This water has to last us until we can find more. We can't just drink from any river or lake we find."

"But when we flew into Bangkok they gave us those, um...the needle things...to you know make us cool with the germs and stuff here. So we should be able to drink any water right?"

To Daisy's surprise it was Keith who answered this time. "Oliver the inoculations we got when we arrived in Thailand were for being in the more civilized areas. The cities and any guided tours out into the wilderness. So we could eat and drink the food and water that was already processed to the standards the government set. That means we can't just slurp water from anywhere. Hell we can't even bathe in certain places because there are things out here that will crawl up your dick and dig in like a fishhook and then eat it from the inside out. So shut up about the water and wait til Daisy says its time to drink." He talked as if to a child and his tone was even. "You did make her the fearless leader remember?"

Oliver gave his pal's words some serous thought, which for him meant just about two seconds. "You got it." Giving Daisy two thumbs up as he fell back into place beside her. "No way I want anything munching on my junk man. Well maybe Adele."

His last words caused both Daisy and Keith to look over at him curiously. Oliver shrugged. "Don't hate. I mean can you imagine her doing down on you while she hits the chorus from 'Hello'?" He bit his lip and then stuck out his tongue with a chuckle.

Daisy couldn't come up with a single thing to say to that and she just kept walking, but she was smiling all the same. Keith on the other hand just looked forward as if the little stoner hadn't said a word.

They moved on in silence again and after a while Daisy looked up at the sun, using a hand to shield her eyes. She had no idea what time it was, only that the sun was lower that it had been before and that meant they were walking towards it, still heading West. Those shows she used to watch on TV always made it look so simple. Survive the wild like it was some vacation. Find water easy as pie. Food fell from the trees. Oh and just look up at the sun and know what time it was exactly. Well all the Hell she knew by looking at the sun was it was still hot and looked like it had no intention of ever not being hot.

"Hey guys..."Oliver began.

Daisy grunted with agitation. "Oliver, if you ask me for a drink I swear - "

He threw up a hand to ward off her next words. "Nah man it's something else. Like big time serious something else."

This should be entertaining she thought. "Ok go ahead."

"So I was wondering if you guys thought what we heard back in that crazy temple was true?" He paused to let them answer, but they didn't. They just kept walking. Maybe they needed him to spell it out for them. "Come on guys. You know, the thing where that crazy tribal lady killed Jason after they took us down and locked us up in that room."

Keith's steps faltered, but he recovered and kept up with the others. Daisy on the other hand pressed her lips into a firm line as her anger flared.

"You mean did that bitch kill Jason the way she killed Riley? You know, right after Jason slit Liza's throat beside me Oliver? Is that what you want to know?"

"Yeah." He said as if they were talking about something as important as what day it was.

Just like always Oliver was laid back to the point of nearly being unable to function as a human being. Back in their care free days his behavior would have been funny, endearing, the life of the party at times, but right now it dug at Daisy in a way she just could not take.

Stopping dead in her tracks she turned on Oliver and grabbed him with one hand fisted into his shirt. She jerked him towards her, eyes burning with unshed tears. "Jason killed Liza! He killed her right beside me! Then the gutless bastard passes out and that bitch comes prancing along and picks up the knife and she...she..." Daisy clenched her jaw, fighting against the memories of a few nights ago. "She spits out this whole speech about severing the blood, about how only her people can have the warrior's blood and for that to happen Riley had to die." She shook Oliver with both hands now and he was too caught up in the moment to say anything, but she still had plenty to say herself. "Riley never hurt anybody! He was sweet and had the rest of his life ahead of him and that bitch...she slit his throat just like Liza. Just like Jason did. She killed him. They killed our friends. Don't you get it Oliver? Jason chose them over us. Everything he did on this damn island was for them, not us. We were never important to him. We were just an excuse for him to become a killer, to be what they wanted him to be." She shoved him away from her, pressing a palm to her forehead, almost starting to cry. "So do I think that bitch killed Jason in some screwed up ritual or something? I hope so. It's what he deserves." Her voice wavered on the last words.

"Don't say that." It was Keith who came to Jason's defense. His voice strong for the first time in a long time. "Jason saved me from a living Hell...a real one. You can't understand what he had to do, but I saw it. I saw him when he killed that...motherfucker."

Daisy knew he meant whoever had been holding him hostage, but she didn't ask. Keith was talking and she wanted to let him do so as long as he was willing. Oliver stood, brushing his shirt down with his hands, but he was at least paying attention.

Keith's eyes had this far away look in them. "Jason came to get me and he promised me he would get me out of there and then that son of a bitch tried to keep us both down in that cellar. He was going to do to Jason...to Jason...what he'd..." His words failed him.

Daisy stepped close and rubbed her hands up and down his arms. "It's ok. You don't have to go on if you don't want to."

"I have to. Jason would." His eyes looked down at her and she saw a flicker of the old Keith hiding way in the back of them. "Jason would go on, he'd never stop. You didn't see him then. The way he just stepped up and did what had to be done. What I couldn't do. For all my big talk, all my bullshit, when it came time to handle things I caved, but Jason. He just, well he just fucked that guy up Daisy. I'd never seen him like that before. Not in any of the fights we'd gotten in before together. I mean never over anything. When he said he was taking me out of there I didn't really believe him, but then I saw him take that bastard down and the look in his eyes, it was like...like he was a different Jason." He captured Daisy with both hands, gripping her shoulders so tight it actually hurt her. "He did that for me. He flipped this switch and went from our Jason to some badass who got shit done. For me...Don't you understand...for me." He looked past her to Oliver who was standing, rubbing the back of his neck. "Tell her Oliver. I bet it was the same with you right?"

The stoner blew out a breath and nodded. "Man speaks true Daisy gal. They were gonna send me off to some fat fuck's sex room when Jason started popping off with a gun. He kept me alive until I finally found a boat and then of all things the dude like does this awesome cliff dive, had to be like a hundred feet or something. Splash down and then he's in the boat and he's like take the wheel so I do and like Keith said, Jason was on a whole other level man. He got up into this big ass gun thing on the boat and he starts blowing shit up left and right and the whole time he's like talking smack like its some action movie. He wasn't sweating anything. Bullets, boats, pirates, hell even one of those sick ass helicopters. He blew them all away and took me to the cave. It was fucking awesome!" He clapped his hands and spun around, then did a fist pump. "Jason kicked serious ass!"

She didn't give Oliver's account much credit. She'd heard most of it before back in the cave when Jason had shown up with him and it didn't sound any more believable now then it did then. She just couldn't imagine Jason going all Rambo. Now Grant she could see doing that. He'd been the Brody brother who got things done. Jason had been more of a drifter really. Never settling on anything, just going wherever his interests took him. At least that was the Jason she'd come to know once she started dating Grant. It wasn't until later when Grant had taken her back home to introduce her to his mom that she'd learned a little more about the middle brother. There in the main room of the house was a display case that went from floor to ceiling and it was literally stuffed with trophies from just about every sport Daisy could imagine. Football, baseball, basketball, track and field, even swimming, which was her own personal sport of choice. Pictures of Jason free climbing sheer rock faces for fun, a big grin on his face as he posed hanging from one hand hundreds of feet off the ground. Others of him doing a flip on a snowboard. Even one of him holding a target with several holes in the center while Grant stood smiling proudly beside him. Along with everything else there had been academic achievements too. Jason wasn't just some pretty boy who got along on his family's dime, he'd earned his way into college with scholarships. It wasn't until after college that he'd become a party boy. In fact the only thing that Daisy had ever known Jason to take even half seriously was his relationship with Liza. Once she entered the picture Jason had tried to at least act a little more grown up, but that didn't end well now did it.

So no, as far as Daisy was concerned Jason had betrayed them and that was that. Oliver's view of things was absolutely untrustworthy due to all the drugs that were no doubt going to be floating through his blood for years to come even if he never touched another pill starting today. Keith on the other hand would have normally been a reliable source, but with the obvious trauma he'd gone through she just couldn't put any credence in what he said. So she stuck with her own gut feelings on the matter, but didn't voice them any further. She didn't want to risk sending Keith back into his shell when it looked like he might be willing to try and come out.

The sound of an engine broke into her thoughts, causing her to look ahead, squinting against the glare of the sun.

"Yo I hear something." Oliver took a few steps further down the road to look for himself. He pointed, looking back smiling. "It's a truck! It's a truck guys! People man! Oh yeah no more walking for us!" He happily hopped up and down, waving his arms at the truck.

"You sure its a truck?" Daisy asked, not trusting that Oliver could see what she couldn't. All she could make out was a red blur coming at them down the road and from the sound it was moving fast.

Keith grabbed Daisy and Oliver each by an arm and literally drug them off the road.

"Hey what the Hell man?" Oliver protested once he regained his footing.

Daisy was more concerned with what was up with Keith. He was sucking in air like he'd just run a marathon. "Keith?"

"Red is bad news." He said without looking at them. Instead he ushered them further off the road and up a hill towards some waist high brush.

Oliver resisted, pulling away from Keith. "Yo man chill. It's a ride. I'm sick of walking and besides we - "

A single loud pop echoed in the distance and there was a sound like a fly makes when it gets too close to your ear. Oliver tensed up and then slumped to the ground. Daisy froze. What was going on?

"Aha! I got one! Did you see that shot!" A voice shouted triumphantly from the quickly approaching red truck.

Keith shoved Daisy further up the hill, but she only moved a few feet, her eyes on where Oliver lay in the grass. She saw a growing red splotch on the back of his shirt. When she looked at Keith she saw his lips moving, but there was no sound. She was too stunned to understand him.

"Daisy run!" He shook her until her teeth rattled and she finally seemed to get what he was saying. "Run!" He shoved her further up the hill again.

"Oliver?" She implored.

Keith waved her on frantically. "I'll get him and catch up with you. Just go!" He ordered.

His tone rattled her back into reality. He sounded like his old self. The surety in his words left her no doubt that he'd do just what he said so she turned and ran up the hill, leaning forward and using her hands to keep going when it got too steep. The jungle loomed at the top of the hill like some brooding green monster waiting to gobble her up. Behind her Keith moved to Oliver and gently turned him over. There was a matching red spot growing on the front of his shirt. He was gut shot through and through. Keith winced, looking away from the wet hole and instead focused on Oliver's face.

"He bro, what's up?" Oliver asked, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

"Same old shit man." Keith lied, tears running down his cheeks, but he refused to give into the sobs. "How you feeling Oli?"

The life of the party and stoner extraordinaire that he was, Oliver looked up at his friend and gave a lopsided smile. "Great man. I'm so high I can't even feel my toes man. It's prime stuff."

Keith heard the truck skid to a stop below them and the sound of boots hitting the road.

"Where did they go?" A voice asked.

"I know I got one of them. Check up there." Said the apparent shooter.

Turning back to Oliver, Keith prepared to pick him up before they were found. Then he saw there would be no need. Oliver lay looking up at the sky, but there was no life in his eyes. Keith leaned down and pressed his forehead to his dead friend's and finally let the sobs take him.

"I'm sorry Oli...so sorry." He whimpered.

The voices cut into his misery.

"You assholes better find them. That girl looked like a tasty piece of ass!" A commanding voice ordered.

"No shit!" Another agreed.

"I call dibs on her mouth." A third voice called out and very close to where Keith was bent over Oliver's body.

Only a few bushes separated him from the owner of that particular voice. The idea of these bastards getting their hands on Daisy made his stomach lurch. That she would have to suffer through what happened to him...to endure that...no...no...No...NO!

For Oliver. For Daisy. For everything that they'd been through on this fucking island. Something deep down inside Keith broke free and would never be the same again. Something angry and savage and hungry for revenge, but above all else something that needed to protect the last friend he had. He would not let them have Daisy.

The pirate poked around in a bush with his rifle, but found nothing. He'd gotten one of them right around here, he was sure of it. He was the best shot around for miles and he prided himself on it. He just had to find the body to keep his reputation intact.

"You goddamn motherfucker!"

A furious voice caused him to turn around, bringing his rifle to bear. "What the fuck?"

Keith laid into the pirate with a wild haymaker punch that sent the man to the ground like a wet sack of sand. Keith picked up his rifle and bashed the pirate's face over and over until it was so much red pulpy mush.

"I see one!" A voice rang out.

Turning Keith saw several pirates all running up the hill, their red shirts and bandannas bright against the green of the slope. He didn't know much about guns, but Keith knew that you aimed first, then pulled the trigger. Instantly the rifle in his hands kicked as it sprayed bullets into the oncoming pirates. Two went down while the rest threw themselves to the ground, some covering their heads with their hands.

"Holy shit!"

"Fuck!"

"I'm on the heavy gun!"

Keith held the trigger till the gun went dry and then he was at a loss as to what to do with it. Down the hill where the truck was parked on the road, a pirate climbed up into the back and got a hold of the machine gun mounted there. He swiveled it towards the hill and then angled it up until he saw Keith standing in the open fidgeting with the rifle.

"Die cocksucker!" The pirate shouted and then let loose with the mounted gun.

Bullets began tearing up the ground in a line that ran right towards Keith. Something hot tore through Keith's left arm and jerked him back a step. Another searing hot pain slammed into his thigh and he went down on one knee. The pain was intense, but oddly he felt calm, like he could put it aside for now.

One of the pirates who'd thrown himself to cover shouted down at the one manning the mounted gun. "Cut that shit out asshole! You wanna kill us all!"

"Shit man ok!" The gunner called back sheepishly.

The pirates on the slope stood warily and saw Keith ahead of them and felt safe to move in on him. To them he looked pretty messed up after all.

To his credit Keith was still conscious and considering his injuries that was something amazing. He didn't know it, but his left arm was gone below the elbow and his upper thigh was basically a gaping hole with what was left of his hip bone showing through the ragged meat.

The first pirate to reach him drew a pistol from his hip and aimed it right at Keith's face. "You are one tough little bitch I'll give you that."

Most of the pirates gathered around Keith, training their guns on him as their leader spoke.

"Where are your friends huh?" He demanded.

Keith just looked up at him from where he was kneeling, a smile spreading over his lips. "At your mother's house."

The leader thumbed the hammer back on his pistol. "You're pretty fucked up man. Must hurt. I can make it quick, no more pain...or, I can let you bleed slow. Up to you."

The last pirate had left the mounted gun and run up the hill. Along the way he came across Oliver's body. He reached down and took the stoner's cap for himself and put it on before waving to the others. "Hey I found one here. Dead motherfucker for sure."

Keith turned his head, almost falling over as he did because everything was starting to look a little hazy. Wait, that guy was wearing Oliver's hat. That was not right at all. No fucking way.

The leader chuckled. "That leaves the girl. So tell us where she is and I'll put you out of your misery. No more pain for you and some pussy for us. Win win right?"

The pirates laughed. Keith did not. He lashed out with his remaining hand and snatched the pistol from the leader's. In a very gunslinger fashion he flipped the pistol around so he held it aimed back at its owner. As his thoughts were slowly going dark Keith thought to himself, that was a pretty good trick he'd just done. He'd bet the others would have gotten a kick out of seeing that. It was funny. Keith knew he was dying, knew it just as he knew his own name, but he wasn't scared. In fact things had taken on a clarity that he'd never known before. He wasn't a gun person at all, but he knew by looking at the gun in his hand it was a revolver. He counted six shots and he saw that the hammer was cocked. The gun was ready to work.

Keith dumped three shots into the chest of the surprised pirate leader in front of him, then switched targets fluidly to fire two shots into the head of the guy wearing Oliver's cap. He sorta felt bad about ruining his friends favorite cap, but he'd rather do that than let any of these assholes wear it. Then before anybody could react he put the revolver to his temple and smiled big and broad.

"Checkmate fuckers." Keith said proudly and pulled the trigger. The world clicked off for him and that was that.

"Goddamn." A pirate muttered, looking down at Keith's cooling body and what was left of his head. "Crazy bastard."

"Ok this shit better pay off." Another said angrily.

"Right the girl."

"Move out and search."

So the pirates searched the hill, kicking and prodding bushes, checking behind trees, and looking into shallow washouts. They came up empty and as the search drew on so did the heat, but one thing began to run out and that was light. The sun was starting to touch the horizon and soon it would be night.

One pirate stood high up the slope, only a few yards from the jungle and unzipped his pants to take a piss. He was completely unaware that only a few feet from him, crouching in a thicket was the very woman they'd been looking for.

Daisy had seen everything from her vantage point and her heart nearly shattered when Keith had turned the gun on himself. If it hadn't been for him she would never have been able to climb so high and find a hiding spot before the pirates noticed her. Now it was all she could do not to scream out her sadness. It just wasn't fair. None of them had asked for this. What had they done to deserve such torment? She wanted to fall away into nothingness and just scream into eternity. She felt it filling her from the inside, swelling up her throat and pressing against her lips, the scream to end all screams.

The pirate nearest where she hid was done taking a piss and he turned towards her hiding place in the thicket and started towards it. Daisy covered her mouth with both hands and pressed hard to keep her mouth shut. Her eyes were over flowing with tears and she couldn't breathe through her nose so she had to hold her breath while the man drew closer and closer.

"Get your ass down here and help load these bodies!" A voice called up from the bottom of the hill.

The pirate veered away from her and headed down the hill grumbling under his breath. Then he shouted. "Why are we taking the bodies anyway?"

"The white boys are obviously escaped prisoners. Vaas will reward us for them. We take the others and blame it on the Rakyat. We look good all around right?"

"Ha! Good idea."

After all the bodies were loaded into the back of the truck the remaining pirates climbed in and the vehicle rumbled to life before driving off. Daisy had taken her hands away not long after the pirate had rejoined his pals and now she sat sucking in huge gulps of air that hurt every time her chest swelled. Her eyes burned from crying and her nose was running. Basically she was a mess and she felt even worse on the inside. She'd watched them die. Oliver. Keith. She'd watched them die and done nothing. Nothing at all. She told herself there was nothing she could have done. What? Charge down the hill with the machete and take them all out? They had guns for Christ's sake!

 _Jason could have done it._ Said a little voice in her head. She'd seen him every time he came back to the cave with another of their friends in tow and knew that he always had a machete on him. His guns changed sometimes, but mostly he had a bow, a pistol, and that machete. Some how Daisy knew that if it had been Jason here with this machete instead of her that he would have done something. He might not have been able to save Oliver and Keith, but one thing was for sure. None of those pirates would have walked away. Daisy didn't know how she could be so sure of that, but something deep down in her told it it was true and that, that made everything that had just happened even worse. She had been utterly useless. That Dennis guy was wrong about her. She wasn't strong at all.

"Letting your friends die sucks doesn't it?"

That voice! Daisy turned on her heels where she crouched in the thicket and Jason was right there, inches away! Only his eyes were gone and the jagged empty sockets stared at her, condemning her as thick streams of blood and gore ran down his cheeks.

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Daisy woke screaming, just as she'd done nearly every night since finding her way back to the cave under Dr Earnhardt's place. Her heart pounded in her chest so hard she thought it might burst out. She'd had nightmares about Oliver and Keith's death many times, but that one had been the worst. Jason had never been in them before, but God what in the Hell was that all about anyway?

She shoved the sleeping bag off her and crawled out of the tent and stood on shaky legs. The sound of dripping water filled her ears as it always did in the cave. The smell of pungent flora and fauna assailed her nose, but she was used to it. She'd spent months in this cave, occasionally venturing out to visit with the doctor or to just look at the glorious view that his house afforded. He'd chosen a truly beautiful spot to build it on. It was such a waste that those Rakyat pricks had burned most of it down.

She moved over to the mouth of the cave and the sunlight that was flooding in from it. Leaning against the rough stone mouth of the cave she looked out at the breathtaking view of Rook Island. If you didn't know about the malicious nature of the place you'd think it was a paradise. She reflected on her first day back here, back to the place of safety or at least what had once been safety.

After the pirates had left her alone on that hill, truly alone now. She'd spent days wandering, always heading West. She'd had nothing else to do, no other goals other than just living. Having to avoid the road meant traveling close to the jungle and she hated that most of all. It felt alien and hungry and she wanted nothing to do with it. The machete had given her no sense of protection at all. The food and water she'd consumed sparingly, making it last as long as possible. Then it had run out and she was sure that was it. She came across ponds, lakes, streams, even a full on river, but at each one she was worried about drinking it and with no way to boil it she didn't want to risk it. She would never have guessed how hard it would be to walk away from clear water when you hadn't had a drink in days. Growing up surrounded by civilization was something she'd taken for granted. Never again would she look at a soda machine the same way.

Then she'd come to a beach. She still remembered the feeling of complete and utter despair, thinking that she'd gone as far West as she could and come to nothing. Then the fear of more pirates finding her. After all it was on a beach that they'd all been caught in the first place. Then she'd seen it in the distance. The tall rock thrusting up into the sky with grass dotting it here and there and along the way a winding road that she knew would lead to the plateau and the colonial house of Dr Earnhardt. Half a day later and she finally reached the house only to find the upper half of it gone and most of the first floor in ruins. They'd burned it of course. She remembered how she salvaged whatever she could from the house. Some canned goods and some tools, but the best of all came when she'd rifled through a drawer in the kitchen and found a small .38 revolver and half a box of bullets. She'd taken a self defense course back in college and part of it had dealt with handling a handgun.

Even now the revolver was tucked into the waist of her jeans at the small of back.

An unwanted memory floated into her mind and she frowned, saddened as she turned it over like a dirty jewel. Something she wanted to throw away, but felt like she had to keep. It was the memory of flies. So many flies. She'd heard them that day while she'd been circling the house looking for anything useful. It had been as she neared the gazebo that the buzzing had first caught her attention. She remembered how she'd moved towards the sound, curious, and then the smell hit her like a wall. Putrid and foul in the worst way, but her morbid curiosity had her and there was nothing she could do but find the source. Daisy knew she'd regret it for a long time. Seeing Dr Earnhardt like that had left her on her knees puking. Afterwards she'd desperately wanted to do something about it. Bury him or anything really to put him to rest, but she couldn't bring herself to go anywhere near that gazebo. No amount of willpower could get her there. So she avoided it.

She still avoided it even now. How long had it been since she'd returned to the cave? Weeks surely. Time was a funny thing now. Without any way to keep track of it other than the day and night it seemed to slip through her fingers like mercurial threads she just couldn't grasp. Weeks sounded right though, but just how many was the question? How long since the Rakyat had taken them to that temple? Since she watched Jason kill Liza. Since she'd watched that Rakyat bitch kill Riley. How long or did it even matter any more?

Daisy hugged herself and kicked a rock with a forlorn sigh. Loneliness consumed her as it always did once she woke from her nightmares. Utterly alone on an island full of nothing but misery. More than once the revolver had seemed like a good way out. It had worked for Keith after all so why not her? What was she waiting for? It wasn't like anybody was going to save her. After being on this island for nearly a year she was pretty damn sure that back in the states they'd already given up on her. Nobody had a clue where they had gone on their little excursion into Thailand anyway. It was a spur of the moment idea to celebrate Riley getting his pilot's license, it wasn't like they intended to end up like this.

"Why me?" She asked the world in a small voice.

Everybody else was dead and yet here she stood, just living for the sake of living. Was there even a point? Life had to be more than just existing. More than just breathing. She had gotten over Grant's death early on, she'd thought she was strong then, but now...with everyone gone she felt so lost. So very empty. She would give anything to have them back. Suffer any torture just to be with them.

Again the revolver rose to the surface of her thoughts. There was one way to be with them after all.

No.

She pushed the thought away. Keith had died to give her a chance and she was not going to throw that away. It just wouldn't be right.

So she remained there, watching the island that had taken all her friends from her, that had broken her heart, that had changed her forever. She watched it and she hated it with every fiber of her being.


	8. Story time

Rika's home was surprisingly pleasant, at least Jason thought so when he saw it in the distance. It had taken them a little longer than two hours to reach it, but along the way at least the rain had stopped. Now the sun was fully bearing down on them with what time it had left and the world had become a muggy greenhouse.

As they approached the squat dwelling Jason could see that it was built far better than Rohana's shack. In fact the walls seemed made of proper boards, the corners were good strong beams no doubt set deep into the ground. The roof was thatched, but it wasn't like he'd expected shingles. From outside it looked to be three rooms, one large in the center and then two smaller ones on either side. The house had a little porch attached to it with its own thatched roof, to his surprise there was even a rocking chair sitting off to one side of the door. The place had an old fashioned look of coziness to it. Somebody, most likely Rika's father, had taken great care to build this place despite its small size.

Rika stepped onto the porch, which Jason could now see was so low that it didn't have any steps. "Well this is it." She said matter-of-factly with a wave of her hand.

Jason stood looking around and saw a small garden not far from the house, the neat rows of plants were surrounded by a sturdy if not short wooden wall that was built in much the same manner as the house. It even had a little gate. Turning he looked out at the view the front of the house offered and had to admit it was quite nice. Not very far from the dwelling was a pond with a mirrored surface dotted with Lotus and Water Lilies. At one end, to his left, a waterfall cascaded over smooth rocks to fill the pond. It was perhaps thirty feet tall, while at the other end a stream gurgled its way down the slope they'd traveled up. No doubt it was the very same stream that emptied into the ocean near the shanty cluster. Jason marveled at this little clearing hidden away within the jungle and wondered how he'd never come across it before now. Then something caught his attention, a sound that had been in the background, gently tugging at him for some time now. Something not natural, but that had been ever present since he'd come into the clearing. Now that he was listening for it Jason knew he'd been hearing it even before reaching this place. It had been so soft, so unobtrusive that it had never really registered before now.

"What is that?" He turned this way and that looking for the source of it, feeling like he'd heard it before, that it was on the tip of his tongue.

With her hand on the door Rika answered without looking back at him. "Wind chimes." Her voice held a hollowness that Jason missed.

"Wind chimes?" Looking around Jason began to notice them now. Little hand made things hangings in the trees, from the fence around the garden, the roof of the house, even from poles placed seemingly at random around the place. There had to be dozens of them. Every time the wind picked up the air was filled with a chorus of tinkling notes that gave the place an almost ethereal quality.

"Yeah. My mother made them." Rika explained flatly. "It was a hobby."

Jason had moved to get a better look at one and found it was made of bits of metal and broken glass hung with wire. Very simple, but the sound was soothing. He stood and looked over at Rika. "So when do I get to meet your mom?"

Without a word the slender girl pushed the door to the house open and went inside. Jason was left with the distinct impression that he'd said something wrong. Well at least he hadn't lost his touch in that regard he thought as he began to explore around behind the simple house. He hoped that if he gave the girl some time to herself she'd get over whatever it was that he'd said wrong.

Coming around the corner he found a little shed pressed up against the back wall. The door was ajar so he pulled it open to peek in. The hinges creaked loudly from disuse and spiderwebs dominated the upper part of the doorway. He brushed them aside, spiders having never been a problem for him, and took a look inside. It had the smell of rust, oil, and rot and there was no light to be found of course so he turned to the side, letting the fading sunlight filter into as much of the shed as it could. What he saw was a basic tool shed with a wood axe, shovel, hoe, even one of those short hand held scythes for cutting tall grass or wheat. Jason was guessing about that last part, he wasn't into gardening after all. There were also actual tools laying around on a crude if not sturdy workbench, though they were sparse and badly rusted.

Leaving the shed as he found it, Jason moved on and soon found an old pickup truck resting on its rims and overgrown with weeds. It looked like it had been yellow at one time, but rust and the elements had taken their toll and now it was a mixture of browns and beige. The windshield was gone and the hood wasn't fully closed. He waded through the tall grass to inspect the truck and heard agitated hissing at his feet. Looking down he saw the snake that was camouflaged amid the tall grass. Crouching he stared at the angry viper, neither of them blinking. Jason unknowingly gave himself to instinct and was unaware that he was matching the movements of the snake's head with his own exactly. The two of them carried on in a sort of mirror dance with each other for a few seconds and then the snake lowered its head and slithered away without a sound.

Jason stood and blinked, feeling for all the world like he'd just woken from a short nap. He gave his head a shake and turned his attention back to the truck. Reaching under the edge of the hood he found the release and lifted it. Just like the door to the shed it groaned loudly in protest. It didn't take him long to see that the engine had been gutted. Most anything that could be taken off it had been. He was no mechanic, but you didn't grow up in a house with a dad and two brothers and not learn a thing or two about cars after all. He shut the hood properly, slamming it down loudly, then decided it was time to check out the inside of the house.

Now if only there wasn't a moody teenager waiting within he thought with a sigh.

Inside the house Rika had taken a seat at the table settled against the wall across from the door. There were four chairs, two for her parents, one for her, and one for any ancestor who wanted to drop by unannounced. Her mother had been very superstitious and made sure the dead were always welcome in their home. Now the slender girl stared at the three empty seats and wondered which of them, if any, might be occupied by her parents. Did they check in on their daughter? Some unseen presence looking in on her from the other side...

"Stupid girl." Rika berated herself angrily. She slammed the door of her memories hard and locked them away behind wall after wall. That was where they belonged. The past was gone, done, nothing could change it so why bother with it? Only the now mattered. Only the now was safe.

The sound of a real door opening brought her back to the present and she saw Jason Brody's head pop through the gap in the doorway.

"Alright if I come in?" He asked hopefully.

Rika suppressed a smile, or at least tried to. "Sure."

He stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind him. "Thanks."

Jason dominated the room effortlessly. He wasn't aware of it, but just his size alone made everything in the house look fragile despite how well her father had made every piece of furniture. Rika found herself feeling crowded even though it was just the two of them. Then it struck her. Jason Brody was the first person other than Rohana that had been in her home since her parent's death. She was alone, in her house, alone with the man they called Snow White...and with that thought she let out a giggle.

Turning his attention away from looking all around the room, Jason let his eyes fall to the slender girl who was sitting at the table covering her mouth in a failed attempt to stifle another wave of giggles. "Ok what did I do now?" Because he was pretty sure she was laughing at him.

"No...hehehe..It's nothing...haha!"

He crossed his arms over his bare chest and tried to glare at her, but it only made her laugh for real. She abandoned any attempt to hide it and held her stomach as she leaned over, her shoulders shaking with peals of laughter.

Jason cocked a single brow up and waited patiently. After a little more Rika was able to get herself under control. Her eyes were bright with tears of mirth as she looked up at him where he stood.

"Why did you ever call yourself Snow White?" Her lips quivering with the threat of more laughter to come.

Jason gave the roll of all eye rolls and pulled a chair out and sat down. Resting his elbows on the table he blew out a puff of air. "Wasn't my idea. Just something people started calling me. I guess because I'm white."

"Sure it's not because you're the fairest of them all?" Rika teased, her eyes bright.

"Hey I think I'm pretty tan, especially now." Jason defended himself with a wry grin. "So no I'm not all that fair."

Rika lifted her hand and drew an imaginary circle around her face. "No pig brain I meant this. Your looks. You know, like in the story."

Effecting a wounded expression, Jason touched a hand to his chest. "Are you calling me a pretty boy? How dare you reduce me to looks alone. I'll have you know there is more to me than just a handsome face." His voice filled with mock hurt.

Rika let out another laugh. "Trust me I know. In those pants anybody can see that." She'd spoken without thinking and the moment the words were out she shut her mouth with an audible click of her teeth.

It wasn't just her shutting up either. Jason dropped his hand to the table and drummed his fingers on the worn wood and it wasn't long before the silence in the room turned awkward.

"Rohana made me wear these." "Not that I was looking."

They said at the same time. Then the silence again.

In Rika's head she was screaming at herself. What had gotten into her? She'd spent the better part of the trek here ignoring him, but the times when she did look over at him she couldn't help but notice... **it**. Well not exactly **it** , just the bulge where **it** was. Not that she cared one way or the other in any way about things like that. Just that it was distracting to try and look at somebody when they had this thing looking like it was going to pop out at any moment. It wasn't her fault for noticing. Not at all. In fact if anybody was at fault it was him for walking around like that. Yeah it was his fault!

He broke the silence again. "Look I didn't want to wear these, trust me. Rohana said they used to be her husband's, but when I tried them on...Well you've seen them."

I've almost seen **it** ,Rika thought, being sure not to look his way even though he was sitting down.

"Damn things are more like a pair of long shorts than pants and so damn tight I feel like the ass is going to split on them any minute." He continued to explain, hoping to turn the conversation away from the crotch area altogether.

Rika was confused now. If the problem was in the front why would the back of the pants split and not the front? "I don't understand, how will that happen?" She said, looking his way curiously despite her better judgment.

To say Rika was a sheltered girl was putting it mildly. She knew that her looks were rare on the islands and that despite her age men would try to make her theirs. At fifteen she was years past when most girls were promised to their future husbands or even married already. It all depended on when the girl began to bleed and so far Rika had been lucky that she hadn't. On the other hand the rest of her body hadn't gotten the message and had started to develop of its own accord so she'd taken steps to make sure no man would take too much notice of her. However that was almost the entire extent of her knowledge of the interaction between men and women. Her mother had told her that her future husband would teach her all she'd need to know. So her question to Jason was truly one of pure curiosity and nothing more.

Jason opened his mouth to explain, he'd even began to point with a finger as he leaned over a bit to further get his point across when it struck him what he was about to say. Was he really going to explain to a young girl that these stupid pants felt like his ass was going to split them wide open and that his dick kept going numb from the circulation being cut off so that he had to keep adjusting himself when she wasn't looking? Stopping right where he was he returned to a normal seated position and tapped his fingers on the table. "Can we not talk about this particular subject?"

She tilted her head slightly, her high ponytail sliding along her neck, still wet from the rain earlier. "How can a man who has done the things the stories say you have done be unwilling to talk about problems with his pants?"

"Well I'm sure the stories are giving me too much credit anyway." Hoping to turn the conversation elsewhere again.

Rika leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin in her hands. If there was one thing she truly enjoyed it was hearing stories of the warrior Snow White, even if she thought the name was stupid. Her hero worship was getting the better of her now that she had the central figure of every one of the stories sitting across from her. All thoughts of his pants were gone, instead she wanted to ask him all sorts of other questions.

"So you didn't sneak onto the Southern island and spend months pretending to be one of that evil man's soldiers just so you could get close to him and kill him with your bare hands?" Her attention riveted to what his next words would be.

Wow, thought Jason. Talk about switching gears quick! He wasn't sure if he should be happy or insulted that the topic of what was in his pants was so easily forgotten. Though he did answer her question. "Ok yes I did, but to be honest I had a knife."

"The finger they found, it was yours wasn't it?" Rika asked, looking at what remained of his ring finger.

Jason covered it with his other hand reflexively and she instantly regretted the question. "Oh...I'm sorry. That was rude."

"No it's ok." He pulled his hand away and held up the one with the missing finger. It ended just below the second knuckle and despite the scarring, the end of it was smooth, though slightly discolored. He looked at it with furrowed brows. "I don't remember it being this good. I kept it wrapped up, but honestly it was pretty nasty looking."

"Thank Rohana for that." Rika offered, relieved he wasn't mad at her. "When you were first brought to her you were in very bad shape. It was not clear if you would live or die you had so many injuries. Thankfully none of your bones were broken, but you had many small wounds that had become infected or had not been properly tended. Rohana made sure to check each one and do all that she could. Of course the wound to your chest was her first priority, but after that she moved to the smaller ones." Rika pointed at his finger from where she sat. "Your finger was very...ugly." She made a face.

Nodding, Jason had to agree with her. "Damn thing hurt like hell all the time." Flexing his hand now he felt no pain, just this odd sensation when he formed a fist that something was missing. Was there such a thing as phantom finger syndrome he wondered?

"Rohana worked on your finger while you slept. You are very lucky you did not wake." Rika said with a disgusted look on her face. "She had to cut away some of the meat, then file the bone down so it wouldn't stab back through once she had sewn the rest of the meat over it. She worked very hard so it would be as it is now."

Jason felt his debt to the old woman growing and promised himself that he'd do something to repay her no matter what she said. "She's great."

"Yes she is." Rika said, her voice had grown small. "She is my best friend. My only friend."

He watched the girl turn inward and tried to think of something to say. All he could come up with was to ask her about some of the other stories she'd heard about him, since that topic seemed to be her favorite. Honestly he was sort of embarrassed about them.

"So what else do they say about me? Do I breathe fire or shoot lasers out of my eyes?" Laughing just a little as he asked.

"What is a laser?" She asked him right back.

"Never mind." Scratching his stubble covered chin. "Just, what else do they say about me?"

Rika gave it some thought. There were so many stories that she wasn't sure where to begin. "They say you are a vengeful spirit that can not die. That you rise from the dead again and again, seeking to punish the ones who took your loved ones from you. That you will not rest until that day comes." She wasn't looking at him as she spoke, too busy gazing at the ceiling as she tried to remember the details of the stories. So she missed the agonized expression that washed over his face. "But I do not believe those stories. After meeting you I know that you are not a spirit. You are not vengeful at all. You are just a man. Even if you have done impressive things you are just Jason Brody."

"Rika..." His voice was thick with hate and all of it was focused into his own soul to a pinprick of suffering that he could barely contend with.

The sound of his voice snapped her eyes to him and she cringed at the anguish those pale green orbs held in their depths. Again something she'd said had gone badly she thought as her hands fell into her lap, fingers twining together. If she could have shrunk away to nothingness she would have.

"...I'm not..." He tried to form the words. "...the things you've heard...about me. Not everything is true."

"Of course not!" She jumped at the chance to make things better. "They always make things bigger than they really are in stories."

Jason dropped his head into his hands so he didn't have to face the innocent girl across from him. "What I mean is that...Fuck!" He growled the word and it made her jump. "I'm not the good guy ok? I've done some very very fucked up things and I can never...I can't...change it. Nothing I do will ever make my hands...my soul...me...clean again." He hated himself so much right now. "Yeah I did some good things. I killed people that deserved it, but I fucked up so bad that...there's no coming back from it."

She didn't interrupt him while he condemned himself. She saw his shoulders sag, heard the rasping misery in his voice, and knew that everything he said he believed. Only she had no idea what he could be talking about. Not one story she'd heard ever mentioned him doing bad things. They only praised him for the great deeds he did, things no other had ever been able to do before him. What could be so horrible that it would turn the snarky Jason Brody she'd known so far this day into the slumping lump of a man she saw now? Dare she ask?

"Jason Brody what - " His head snapped up and she almost bit her tongue as the words died in her throat. He looked so different. Gone was the man she'd brought to her home and in his place was something else. The very air of the room had taken on a dark suffocating aura. She felt the breath catch in her throat. It was his eyes. Those pale green eyes weren't human any more. There was a primal urge behind them, a starving thing that wore Jason Brody like a skin to hide its monstrous self.

He stood from the table, not bothering to push his chair back. Rika's stomach clenched and she thought he was going to come for her and she knew there would be nothing she could do against him. She'd taken in every story about the famous Snow White and treated them like a child would a collection of seashells. Just things to be kept and looked at because they were pretty, but now she understood what the stories could not convey. Snow White was a silly name indeed for the thing standing in her home. If Rika had to choose a word to describe the thing before her at this very moment it would be simply...Hellish.

Jason turned away from her and went for the door.

"Where are you going?" Was that her voice? Had she managed to somehow actually speak to him Rika wondered in awe of her own foolish courage. Her question could very well cause him to turn back on her and then what would she do?

He paused, the door half open, but he didn't look back. "I need to go." It seemed like he might say more, but he strode outside, pulling the door shut behind him.

Rika was on her feet instantly, her hand on the door a second later as she flung it open. "Jason Brody?" She ran out of the house and turned around looking for him, but there wasn't a trace of him. That just wasn't possible. The trees were far enough away that she should have seen him as fast as she came out and he surely wasn't swimming in the pond. Just to be sure she looked that way and saw that its surface was as smooth as glass.

"Rika you fool girl what have you done?" She said as the wind chimes began to play their twinkling melody.

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Jason ran with mad abandon through the jungle, his heart thrashing at the prison of his chest, clawing to break free. Everything was a green blur as he dodged trees and rocks by the smallest of fractions. His bare feet touched the ground so briefly as he moved that he might as well have been flying. He relished this feeling, the freedom of it all. He was separated from the world, but wholly a part of it at the same time. Nothing mattered to him now. Not his past or his future, only that his body was strong despite all that he had endured over the past months. Even without the Tatau he did not feel weak at all, not like he thought he would. There was no hesitation in his movements. If anything he felt stronger, more alive, aware of things in a way he had never been before. Perhaps it was that now he was truly awake. Free of the Rakyat's potions and their plants, free of the manipulations of others. His mind was clear now and with that clarity came an entirely new understanding of the jungle, of everything. Since leaving Rika's home Jason had felt a growing sense that he'd been functioning at half power and now the dial was turning all the way to eleven. He caught every detail as he moved, heard every animal and insect around him. Caught every scent in the air. He was so alive he thought he would burst.

He'd been running for hours and he felt he could go and never stop, but then he broke clear of the jungle with its lush growth and skidded to a stop an instant before toppling over a cliff. He stood panting, sweat glistening on his body by the moon's pale light. Rolling his shoulders he felt wonderful, more alive than at any time in his life. It was like he'd been asleep until now, that all of his existence was little more than a foggy dream and he was finally stirring from the depths of it to awaken and live in the real world.

Stepping to the cliff's very edge he peered over and saw a wide lake hundreds of feet below. He let his eyes cast around, looking over the landscape from his vantage point and saw miles of jungle, a few of the twisting dirt roads that traveled the breadth and length of the island, and here and there dotting the landscape, gatherings of shacks or the glittering orange flickers of camp fires. Across the lake from him the ocean lapped at the island endlessly and it was there that his eyes locked onto something that caused the muscles of his arms to tighten as his hands balled into fists. There was no mistaking the plume of jet black smoke rising up into the starry sky and the glare of fluorescent lights that illuminated the outpost. Even from so far away he was sure that he could make out the movement of people, tiny little specs going about their business completely unaware that something wicked was watching them.

" _Well I see that we've learned nothing since our last little chat aye Jason my boy?"_ Buck's voice intruded into his thoughts.

Jason ignored him, hoping he'd go away.

With a rumbling chuckle Buck walked to the cliff's edge himself and looked down. _"Not a chance my dear. I told you I'm here to stay till you get your shit together and this..."_ Waving his hands at the world beyond where they stood. _"Is not getting your shit together Jason."_

Turning on the specter Jason growled. "What do you want from me?" Advancing on the former assassin with deadly intent.

Wagging a finger at him, Buck back peddled as if he were actually afraid this time. _"Hey now don't take this out on me. I'm not even the one doing this...remember that Jason. I'm just part and parcel of you my boy. Something stirring around in the dark plac - "_

"In the dark places of my mind." Jason finished for him angrily. "Yeah I've heard it before. Tell me another one." Then he pointed an accusing finger at Buck before the tattooed psycho could utter a word. "Wait I got one for you. Since you are just a figment of my imagination then that means I made you, so I can unmake you."

" _Oi! Jason."_ Buck warned with a sharp glare, cocking his head back slightly. _"Let's not get ahead of ourselves shall we?"_

"Why? Am I onto something?" Jason asked confidently.

Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Buck turned away from the cliff and paced a few steps then spun to give Jason a once over with his eyes before shaking his head. _"Stubborn to a fault, that's what you are. I'm trying to help you and what do you do, eh? Throw it back in my face, that's what!"_ He snapped, his visage twisting into a grimace. _"Well you know what?"_ He crossed his arms and turned his nose up. _"I wash my hands of the whole thing. Do whatever the bloody hell you want Jason my boy. Go out there and live it up all you like far as I'm concerned. Only don't come crying to me when things get ugly."_ He started walking off, his Hawaiian shirt catching the breeze as if he really were there this time.

Jason stood confused, then lifted a hand towards Buck's retreating back. "Wait! What are you talking about?"

" _Sod off!"_ Was all he got back as the specter kept moving further away.

"What do you mean when it gets ugly?" Jason called after him. "What's going to get ugly?"

Only Buck wasn't there anymore. He just simply had ceased to be, leaving Jason wondering just when he'd vanished. Just when the hell had he...how? Jason hadn't even blinked. In life Buck had been an annoying, blow hard, back stabbing, riddling bastard of a fucker and now he was even worse. Fuck him, Jason thought as he turned back to the cliff and let his eyes fall on the outpost in the distance. He still felt great and he wasn't going to let that asshole ruin it for him.

Then a voice sliced through him to the bone. _"Of course not. Why would you ever give a second thought to what anybody else wanted?"_

He didn't want to turn, didn't want to face the owner of that voice, but he couldn't deny the pull to do so. His body moved without his permission and slowly his feet shuffled, turning him around until his eyes saw her standing there.

He tried to speak and though his mouth moved no words came. Liza was standing there, arms at her sides, hands clenched into white knuckled fists. She looked just as she had the last time he'd seen her. Dirty, clothes worn and ripped, hair pulled up and away from her face, and of course she was still beautiful. Only now her pouty lips weren't pleading for her life, but curled down into a frown of complete and utter disappointment and her eyes were far from fearful. No they were livid with some emotion Jason couldn't fathom.

" _Well Jason aren't you going to say something? Anything?"_ She demanded, the muscles of her neck rippling as she clenched her jaw.

He wasn't ready for this, not for her. _"I did warn you there were worse things my boy."_ Buck's voice whispered within his skull. Jason backed away from her despite the distance between them, right up until he felt the edge of the cliff fall away under the heel of one foot and then he froze, just staring at her wide eyed.

" _Nothing?"_ She slapped her fists to her thighs and turned from him in a huff, stomping away before suddenly spinning around and pointing at him. _"You...You...Bastard!"_ Then she collapsed into a heap, her legs folding under her, her hands covering her face as she began to cry. Huge shoulder wracking sobs that pierced Jason to his core. His first instinct was to comfort her and he ran to her, sliding down onto his knees in the short grass beside her. Without thinking he reached out...

Liza threw herself away from him, landing on her back and scuttling away in horror. _"Don't touch me!"_

Jason recoiled in fear, falling into a sitting position and just staring at her. What the fuck would have happened if he'd touched her? Could he even touch her? The same questions as with Buck kept repeating in his mind. Could he touch her/him? Should he? What if they felt real? Would that make them real or only confirm that he was insane?

" _Who the hell do you think you are?"_ Liza spat at him with hate filled eyes. _"Do you honestly think I ever want you to touch me again after what you did?"_

He tried to close the distance between them, crawling on his hands and knees, not caring what might happen if he did touch her now. She was right in front of him and he needed to...

" _You need to what Jason?"_ She snapped, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. _"Yeah I know what you're thinking, just like that other prick. Don't you listen to anything at all? God Jason you are so clueless all the damn time. That was always your problem. You never listened to anything that anybody said unless it benefited you."_

"Liza I'm sor - "

" _NO!"_ Clamping her hands over her ears she shook her head back and forth. _"Just no! You don't get to say your sorry you massive asshole!"_

Jason's chest felt like a huge boulder sat crushing him and it was all he could do to breathe. Was he having a panic attack? Was this how it felt? He didn't know and couldn't even guess.

Liza dropped her hands and looked at him completely appalled. _"Oh...My...God."_ She looked around as if seeking somebody to justify her observation and finding none she looked back at him and just shook her head. _"I can not believe you! At a time like this all you can think about is yourself. Damn it Jason was I ever important to you at all? Did I ever matter?"_

He punched the ground with a fist, his throat so tight his words strained as they were pushed through the prison of his sorrow. "Of course you did. Liza mattered to me so much."

" _Don't talk about me like I'm not here Jason."_ She commanded, her voice rising.

Screwing his eyes shut so he couldn't see her he stood up. "You aren't...goddamn it! She isn't here! You aren't real!"

Liza rose to her feet and he could hear her approaching, could feel the heat of her she was so close. Yet he dare not open his eyes. This wasn't happening. She wasn't real.

" _Jason."_ Her voice soft now, pleading. _"Please."_

His only response was to shake his head slowly, his lips forming a thin line. He could smell her now. That expensive perfume she liked so much. The sweetness of her hair and that reminded him of how wonderful it felt when he ran his fingers through it. How much he missed doing that.

" _Jason please don't do this."_ She sounded so hurt, so alone.

Only he couldn't do it. He just couldn't open his eyes and look at her, he didn't deserve to. It was better this way. Just ignore her until she went away. She wasn't real. This wasn't happening. It just couldn't be. The words forming a mantra in his mind that he hoped would protect him.

" _Jason no."_ Her voice cracking with emotion. _"Jason look at me please."_

It broke him, that little voice of her's and he opened his eyes. She was right there, so close that if he lifted his hand he could touch her. He saw her eyes go wide with shock and then her head fell forward limply. Blood, hot and thick, began to spray from her neck. It drenched the front of her shirt and stained the ground at her feet. He screamed, scrambling back away from her, tripping as he did so and hitting the ground hard on one hip. His eyes never left her, he couldn't look away. She gurgled his name and then just stood there as if she were suspended by invisible wires.

He couldn't breathe deep enough, his chest was near to bursting, but the air just wouldn't fill it. Fingers digging into the ground he tried to move even further away, his legs kicking for purchase.

Liza's head snapped up and her face, now deathly pale, twisted into a ghoulish snarl. _"MURDERER!"_ She bellowed at him inhumanly loud. _"You killed me Jason! I trusted you! I tried to help you! I did everything I could for you! I gave up so much for you and you took it all and threw it away! You threw me away!"_

Her words nailed him to the ground and he curled into a ball.

Her words found every cell of his being and ripped into them viciously. _"You killed us all Jason for that bitch! For that bitch! All of us! You only think about yourself! You only care about yourself! That's all you were ever good for! Looking out for yourself and nobody else! After everything you've done you still want to go play warrior don't you Jason?"_ Her voice accused with spiteful venom. _"I bet you can't wait to get to that outpost and start killing all over again! Kill! Kill! Kill! All Jason Brody can do is kill! He can't love! He can't care about anybody! He can't protect anything can he? No all he can do is think about himself all the fucking time!"_

Jason uncoiled in a rage of his own, one that burned away the loathing that had filled him like putrid bile. He was on his feet in an instant and facing the fearsome ghoul that bore the face of Liza Snow.

"You don't know me!" His voice matching her intensity. "You never did! It was always about how much you could change me! What part of your life you could fit me into!" He marched towards the bloody apparition with new found courage. "Why can't you be more like this Jason? Why can't you do that Jason? Steve always took my advice Jason!" Inches from her now he fumed. "Was it so fucking hard to just love me for me? If I was such a goddamn fucking lost cause then why be with me in the first place you SANCTAMONIOUS BITCH!?" He roared the last words right into her face.

Liza shrank away from him, returning to her former living image. There was real confusion in her eyes, as if his words were some alien concept she had never before considered. Jason stood towering over her, every muscle of his body taut with rage and bitterness now.

She said softly, _"Because I loved you."_

Jason closed his eyes, willing himself not to burst into tears. "...i know..." He croaked. Without another word he spun and ran as fast as he could. He ran to escape Liza, but he knew that there was nowhere he could. She was trapped inside his soul, eating him alive from the inside. He would never be fast enough to escape her or the others, so he did the only thing he could think of just then.

He jumped over the cliff.

 **→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←**

Elsewhere on the island, gunfire dominated everything. Bullets tore through flesh, metal, and wood in equal measure. The battle for the outpost known as Nat's Repairs had begun just before sunset with the pirates pouring in from all directions on foot. The Rakyat manning the place had been taken completely by surprise and were now pressed back into a defensive formation around the main building, which was little more than a trailer with some metal plates welded to it. To their credit the Rakyat were holding their own now, taking shots from cover behind crates, barrels, and what was left of a burning jeep. The pirates had the numbers at first, but they were taking heavy losses now.

Vaas himself was crouched in cover behind a shipping container that was tilted half on its side and mostly buried in the sand. He was having himself a grand time, a big grin on his face.

"HOLD IT! HOLD IT! EVERYBODY CHILL!" He commanded his men.

There were a few more shots before everything went quiet. The pirates waited for their leader's next order, while the Rakyat were thankful for the break so they could reload and tend to the wounded. They'd already tried to call for help, but the signal wasn't reaching anybody. No doubt the radio tower nearby had been tampered with.

"Hello there!" Vaas called out from behind the container, smiling broadly. "I could not help but wonder if you might consider giving up, eh?"

"A true warrior dies with honor!" One of the Rakyat countered the offer.

Banging his head against the metal container, Vaas stood and stepped out from behind it and into the open. He made a big show of putting his pistol away and then threw his arms wide.

"Ok then I see how it is. I see I see." Nodding with a thrust of his chin as he looked around at any and everybody. "You fuckers want a warrior's death. I get that, no I respect that!" He pointed at the Rakyat still hidden in cover. "So come on then and get your warrior's death." Cupping a hand to his ear he waited. "Oh I'm sorry I could not hear you. All the shooting has my ears ringing. Did one of you say something? Huh?"

When he didn't hear anything he tried another tactic. Sucking his teeth he spat to the side and stood legs wide with a disdainful look on his face. "Warriors, eh? Fucking pussies. Here I am no? Come to your faces with an offer, a once in a lifetime offer to kill me." He hammered his chest with a fist. "Me! Vaas! The traitor to the Rakyat! The man who shit on everything you are and what do you guys do, eh? What do you do...what do you do?" He clucked his tongue at them, before taunting in a sing song voice "You piss your pants and hide. Does it not say that traitors die by a blade you monkey fucking pricks?"

A Rakyat warrior popped up from behind a crate. "You aren't worth a blade!" He shouted before opening fire with his assault rifle. Vaas threw himself to the ground and narrowly avoided being cut in half by the spray of lead. Without getting up he drew his pistol and put a hole in the warrior's throat. Blood sprayed out both sides of his neck and he slumped forward over the crate. His body twitched a few times and then he was dead.

The rest of the Rakyat started to fire again and Vaas was forced to crawl to cover behind a stack of logs. "Fuck!" He was pissed now, but still grinning. The pirates hadn't fired a single shot, still waiting on their leader's orders. Vaas looked at the few of them he could see where they were hiding just like he was and he snapped his fingers to get their attention.

"Hey! Hey assholes!" He pointed at himself. "When the life of moi is in danger as it was just now how about you motherfuckers shooting back!" He screamed till he was hoarse.

A few of the pirates gave sheepish nods or thumbs up.

Vaas blew out a heavy sigh. "Maybe I should hire some of those weekend warriors or train monkeys to use guns. Fuck!" Peeking around the stack of logs he pulled his head back just as a burst of automatic gunfire splintered the edge of his hiding place. "WOOOO! That was a close one!" He laughed with abandon.

"We will kill you traitor!" One of the Rakyat declared.

"Big talk from way over there pussy!" Vaas called back. "Why don't you put on your big boy pants and come get me, eh?" He challenged.

"Citra wants you dead by a blade, but we don't care anymore. We just want you dead!" What sounded like the same man shouted.

Vaas turned thoughtful, his lips pooched out a bit. "So you don't give a shit what my sister said, eh? Tell me...Any of you want a job then?" He couldn't help but taunt them even more.

"To Hell with you Vaas!"

The instant he heard the voice Vaas stepped quickly out from his cover and sprayed the Rakyat's brains all over the wall of the trailer with a single shot.

"KILL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS!" The pirate lord ordered, leading the charge in what could only be called a suicidal frenzy.

The pirates gave whooping yells and stormed forward, following their leader's example. The battle was over within minutes and it left every Rakyat dead, but many more pirates lay sprawled around the compound.

Vaas walked away from the carnage, his right arm covered in blood where a bullet had grazed him. Pulling a radio from his back pocket he gave the all clear. Soon vehicles began filing into the outpost. The first had one of his squad leaders driving it. Vaas waved him over, pointing to the trailer and then waving his hand at all the dead bodies.

"Amigo I want this place cleaned up. Spic and Span ok. None of that half ass shit like last time when you guys buried the bodies and dogs drug that shit back up and stank the place up. No. No. No." Clasping the pirate's shoulder. "I want this outpost to not smell like the ass of a Badtown whore you got me ok?"

"Yeah boss. We burn them this time. No problem."

Slapping the pirate on the arm, Vaas smiled. "Go amigo."

The pirate jogged away, leaving Vaas to his thoughts. With this outpost they now had the entire East coast of the island locked down. Next they'd move along the North, then West, and finally South. Once the island's perimeter was theirs, then they could begin to move inland, eating away at the Rakyat slowly. Vaas intended to push the primitive fucks back into their little temple and then level it to the ground and end them once and for all.

"You better be ready dear sister." He muttered under his breath.

Then his thoughts turned to the other problem, the one he still hadn't made any head way on. Foster. Where the fuck was that asshole anyway? The guy was a ghost. Was he even still on the island or had he already done his job and skipped out? The idea of an outsider sneaking onto his island and getting away did not sit well with him at all and it was beginning to sour his good mood. When he finally found the fucker he was going to stake him out for the ants.


	9. Rebirth part 1

The jungle was not a collection of animals, insects, and plants, no it was a single living thing. An immense being full of raw primal power that could not be tamed. To the Rakyat it was the living totem that they looked to as warriors. A place where death could be found in the most beautiful of flowers or at the teeth of the many predators. Any and everything could and would take your life in the jungle and this was the example the warriors of the tribe had sought to exemplify for countless generations.

However Citra knew there was more to it than that. The jungle was only a single part of a much greater thing. The island itself, the air above, and even the waters surrounding it, everything that was the island converged into a single point of power. A thing that breached the world of the living and the dead. A place of never ending potential that could be tapped into if one had the will to surrender to it, to embrace it and offer their very soul to it. The center was more than a saying, it was not just a place to be found, no it was so much more. To find the center was to offer up everything you were and become something else, something greater. The path lead to the center, but to walk that path was perilous. No two ever walked the same path, yet they all lead to the same place, to the center, but to the center of what was a question that Citra had to admit that even she did not know.

In her youth she had taken her first steps down the path of a warrior. It was not unheard of for females within the tribe to do such a thing, but it was rare. She was strong and cunning and those she could not over power she out witted. Any she saw as a threat she either converted to her side or dominated one way or another. Then everything had changed. It had come after she had taken the life of another young warrior in training like her. He had been a boastful boy, much taller than her. While they had danced around each other, their blades sliding against one another, he had promised that he would make her his. That she would be his wife one day. If not for the tone of his voice, the way he made it sound so lewd, she may have even entertained the notion. He had been strong, handsome in a fierce way. Yet fate had other things in store for her and it had been on that day that she'd first heard the voices.

"He is unworthy." The ground at her feet had whispered.

"He will fail you in time." The trees had proclaimed.

"Strike him down." Her own blade had demanded.

So she had. It had been a simple matter to slip past his guard and slide her blade along his throat. So easy that the young Citra had known the voices had been right. Then as the young man's body lay cooling under the tropical sun her father, the chief of the Rakyat had appeared. Citra still remembered the sight of him towering over her, his dark eyes staring into her as if he could see to her bones. He didn't say a word, only stared at her while the members of the tribe fell silent. The very air itself seeming to hold still, waiting for what would come next.

Even today Citra could recall the words that had slipped from her lips of their own accord.

"The island's will is done." No apology, no remorse, only a flat statement of why she'd just killed one of her own people.

She remembered her father's face, the slightest flicker of his eyes as he looked over at the dead boy. Then his large hand resting on the top of her head before he turned away. That had been the extent of his warmth, of the kindness she knew of her father. The most powerful man the Rakyat had produced in generations strode away from her, his back straight and proud and for all his prowess he could not see the silent tears that had run down her cheeks watching him go. He never coddled her. Never spoke softly to her. Never looked upon her as anything but a Rakyat. Just once could she not be his daughter? Even then, with blood still dripping from her knife and the body of one of their own at her feet he could not show her any emotion. She would have welcomed his anger, rage, contempt...anything.

Later the elder women came for her. The crones surrounded her, touching and mumbling with their toothless mouths and she had been disgusted by them. Bent with age and seemingly gripped by a madness of their own accord the old ones bore her into the inner courtyard of the temple and took her to the dais for the first time. With their rituals and their potions they had transfixed her upon the ancient stone circle with its raised symbols and chanted to long forgotten things in the night. The fires burning within the low stone bowls that lined the path to the dais seemed to burst into colorful tongues that licked at the black sky.

She'd felt them strip her clothes away, leaving her bare on the cold stone. All the while their chattering voices calling out to things better left unseen. Then the violation as one of them pressed her bony fingers into her most private of places. Even now the memory caused Citra to grimace. She could remember the fear that had washed over her. Then the pain as those fingers were wrenched from within her and held aloft and everything went silent. In the firelight the old ones had looked to the intrusive fingers and seen something in the blood that coated them. As one they had all begun to wail and sway and point, having seen some sign that Citra had been unable to understand at the time. That was the night she had become a priestess, but not just any priestess, but the one who could bridge the space between the living and the dead. A living goddess. A thing so rare that none of the Rakyat living could even speak the name of the last such priestess. Citra Talugmai had become far too important to waste on the path of the warrior and so she had turned away from it and towards a greater destiny, or so she had thought.

With memories of those far away times filling her head, Citra stumbled in the dark of the night and leaned against a thick bamboo stalk for support. Her body ached all over. Only a day ago she had taken a tumble while trying to climb down a rather sheer rock face and through the greatest of luck had not broken her neck. Now she felt as if her body were one large bruise that throbbed constantly.

"Such weakness." The bamboo stalk whispered into her ear.

Pushing herself away from it she began to walk again. Her steps were loud and she did not care. She was tired, so very tired, and all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep. Only she knew better. If she were to do that here in the open she would be dead by morning, of that she had no doubt. Something would find her and make a meal of her, something deserving. The thought of a meal sent her stomach growling angrily at her. Her last food had been some Durian fruit and that had been two days ago. She had come across nothing since, not even animals to hunt. Her bow was a heavy object she constantly adjusted where it hung across her body from one shoulder to her hip. Even her knives seemed far heavier than they should be. Her lips were cracked from lack of water. The promise of rain that she had seen to the West before leaving the temple had never reached her. It was as if nature were abandoning her.

"As you abandoned the warrior." The ground mocked her with a hoarse voice.

Citra licked her lips and forced words past her parched throat. "I know."

The admission stripped her bare to her soul. Jason was gone and with him any hope her people had. He had risen to every challenge. Faced every obstacle set before him. Not even nearly dying by her brother's hand had broken him. Though she admitted that her deception played a small part in that. Then the hushed rumors that he had even overcome death itself if the stories were to be believed. Though she did not think Jason had done such a thing. None who passed into the land of shadows ever returned, not as they were any way. The vile spirits that did manage to breach the chasm between this world and the next were nothing but revenants seeking to torment the living or worse.

"The warrior is more than you know." A hanging vine taunted her as she brushed it aside.

"He is gone now. It does not matter." Citra mumbled dejectedly.

"Gone, but not beyond your reach." The wind hissed against her ear.

Those words brought her up short and her mind turned away from her aches and pains, instead it latched upon a new idea, considering something she had not before now. Not beyond her reach? The whispers hinted at something only she could do. Yet did she dare? Was there even a point to trying?

Turning her face up to the sky she spoke loudly. "I could bring him to me. Speak with him within the land of shadows."

"You glean wisdom from the dead. You alone know the truth of the center. You are the only one for who all things are laid bare. It is your birthright." The stars echoed down from the black sky.

Citra felt a real and true fear coil deep inside her belly even as a fervent hope sprang in her chest. She was torn from within. To call to Jason and face him after what she had done was a dangerous thing. He could be the same magnificent warrior she remembered. Strong, powerful, perfect in every way...or he could be so full of malice and wrath at her betrayal that her summons might give him the power to cross the veil between worlds and strike her down. She could inadvertently release a horror upon the island the likes of which had not been seen in...well ever.

"Ah but you are so very good at unleashing wicked things child." A thorn bush chuckled as it slashed at her bare calf.

Citra ignored the tiny pinpricks of blood that welled up on her skin and moved on. Her thoughts whirling, teasing, warning...her mind so full she felt dizzy. Perhaps it was the lack of food and water or something more, but she could not focus and fell to her knees, falling forward only to catch herself with her hands, fingers splayed wide atop the leaves of the jungle floor.

"I...I want to...so badly...only I...I can not." She said, lips trembling with barely restrained emotion.

"Fear!" The world accused loudly.

Flinching under that single word she set her jaw and stood unsteadily, but through sheer force of will she remained so.

"I fear nothing!" She proclaimed proudly. "I am Citra Talugmai and my name is known in this world and the next!" It was not a boast, it was fact. Her people may know of her power, but she knew of her limits and she had yet to reach them. "I am ready to face any trial."

"Then walk child and find the center." Came a voice she did not recognize. Where it had come from she could not say, and if it had spoken to her or from within her was something she could not be sure of.

With a new found determination she began to move through the dark jungle. Her body fell from her thoughts, her past was but a shadow that she passed through, even the ground under her feet was little more than an afterthought now. Her mind began to open, to grasp at the unseen, and the woman that was Citra gave way to the spiritual being that she had been cast into that night so very long ago.

It could have been hours or seconds, but she found herself standing before a cave. Thick vines draped over the dark maw of it's entrance that would have hidden it from almost any other passing close to it. Citra heard the cave calling to her and she moved towards it. There was a deep rhythmic sound coming from the bowels of that dark passage. Almost as if some behemoth lay buried beneath her and she could hear it breathing. Perhaps the cave was its throat and she stood before the beast itself as it lay cloaked, waiting to devour any foolish enough to come close to it. Even as the thought flitted through her mind her feet moved her closer.

"I am not afraid." She repeated to nothing and everything.

"You hide behind the trappings of station child. Come as you were created. Come without restraint. Without the adornment of pride and status. Come as our child. As we made you." The cave beckoned with its sibilant tones.

Citra unslung her bow and let it fall at her feet. Her quiver of arrows soon followed, then her knives. Next her dangling earrings of polished seashells. Then the myriad bracelets and necklaces, all clattering to the jungle floor to fall where they may. She did not care where they came to rest, they were only trinkets after all. Next she removed her soft leather clothes, tossing them aside and let the night air embrace her naked flesh. The leather arm bands were all that remained and she made short work of the one on her right wrist, but then hesitated when her eyes fell to the larger one that dominated her left forearm.

Her fingers touched the leather and still she hesitated. When was the last time she had removed this without being in the safe confines of her personal chambers? When had she dared to expose herself so openly as she was about to? Her nakedness was nothing compared to what she was about to display to all of creation. Closing her eyes she chided herself for being such a foolish woman. As if the whispers did not already know of her long hidden sin. That the spirits would not have seen it the very moment it had begun.

With a quick tug at the lacing she slipped the leather that encased her forearm off and threw it aside. She stood now completely bare as the day she was born and finally after what seemed an eternity to her, opened her eyes and looked at her arm.

There was no Tatau. It had long ago faded away. The symbol of her people, the markings of a true warrior that she had been so proud of in her youth was now long gone. Having vanished the further she moved from the path of the warrior towards the bridge between this world and the next. Yet how could she explain to her people that their war goddess could not bear the Tatau upon her skin? That she could not brandish the iconic truth of her people that even the youngest of warriors could? How could she lead them, inspire them, when she had failed at so basic a thing?

Deep rumbling laughter boomed from the cave, followed by that voice she could not place once more. "So basic a thing is it? The path of a warrior is far more than you understand child. It is not so simple as taking a life. It is more than blood and rage."

"I know that!" Refusing to back down from the voice. "I have lead my people when no other could. My warriors have never wavered under my command. Never turned from a battle. They believe in me." Defiantly raising her voice. "In me!" Balling her fists at her sides.

"Yes and they die with your name on their lips." The cave accused. "Again and again you send them to their deaths. Over and over you waste them for yourself."

"No!" She rebuked, her eyes wide.

"How many have you sent to die by your brother's hand? Do you even know? Can you call out their names?" The cave countered. "Sing to me their names and all will be forgiven. Show me that you know of the sacrifice a warrior makes. Tell me that you understand what it truly means to live and die for something greater than yourself."

Citra balked, her mouth open, but no sound came.

"THEIR NAMES!" The cave shook the world with its voice.

She fell back as if struck, her scream ripped away on the wind that gushed from the cave as it roared at her. Scrambling, she threw herself down on all fours in supplication, pressing her body to the ground, her face into the dirt and leaves as fear, true fear engulfed her.

After a pause that voice spoke again, calmer now. "You can not. The one who sings to the land of shadows and hears the dead could not even call a single one of those warriors to her now. She could not speak with them. Could not offer them words to ease them. She can do nothing for them, but they gave everything for her."

Every word caused her body to quake as if a lash were stripping the skin from her back. Every accusation a truth she could not refute. To have failed so fully was a weight so heavy it was crushing her slowly. Then a glimmer of hope sprang into her, rising from the quivering heart within her chest.

"Jason." Softly speaking his name.

The cave went still, the dreaded breathing halting, but the voice remained. It alone existed in a world that seemed to be growing further away with every moment. Citra began to wonder if she was dying. The voice gave no heed to her thoughts, only to that single word she had spoken.

"What of him?" It asked low and deep.

"His name was Jason Brody and I am the one who set him against my brother." Citra turned her head from side to side, pressing it all the more into the ground until it hurt to do so. "I set him against so much and he returned again and again. Even in defeat he rose. Over and over Jason rose. Not just for the Rakyat, but those he loved, for those he did not even know. He was...was..." Her words failed her, but her heart screamed inside her even as her mouth worked silently, agonized by the memory of her final act, the ultimate betrayal of the man she only now truly realized she had loved.

"Jason." The voice said the name flatly. "Is nothing to me."

Citra's head shot up in shock. The cave loomed closer than before and there was the sound of something chattering inside it, close to the entrance, but just out of sight. A clicking, clacking sort of sound that almost seemed like something was speaking in a way. As if many somethings were chittering back and forth with each other.

The voice spoke in a dismissive tone. "He is unworthy of me. A traitor to our ways. Do not utter his name to me."

Disbelief turned her voice strong, her words bold. "How can you say such a thing? Jason was perfect. He was everything a Rakyat warrior could be."

"Your brother yet lives. He is a failure." The voice condemned.

Citra beat the ground with her fists like hammers. "That is my fault! I rushed him. I forced him into that too soon. I thought only of punishing my brother for my own selfish reasons. I did not do it for my people. It was not just, not right. Jason only did as I asked. Can you not see that? He is not at fault. It is me." She felt her soul crack. "Me!"

The world was gone and now only the cave remained and Citra found herself groveling on nothingness. She could feel nothing beneath her and feared falling away into the inky blackness that was now surrounding her.

There was nothing but silence and Citra could not say how long it stretched for time had ceased to be a thing here in this place. Finally the voice returned and she was grateful for it. The overwhelming feeling of loneliness had started to become unbearable.

"Agreed." It said just as flat as before. "That failing shall be yours."

She closed her eyes, accepting the judgment. It was only right. It was only the first of many things she must accept and she knew it.

"Though traitor he remains."

She balked at the voice, standing without thinking or even wondering how she could do so in the void that she now found herself and the cave existing. "No! Jason is no traitor. He gave everything for us...for me." Her bravado quickly fading towards the end of her words.

"For you, but not for the Rakyat. Not for us." The voice corrected her. "It does not matter. Even now he is a traitor. He is not Rakyat."

Citra could take her own condemnation, it was what she deserved, but she refused to allow Jason's sacrifice, even if it was forced upon him by her own twisted machinations, to be challenged. Even if the thing challenging it was the very source of her people's power. Citra would not, could not allow that. Her heart swelled with the need to defend him.

"I will not listen to a voice with no form speak so. I would see you so that I can tear your eyes from your face!" Her lips curled into a snarl, her voice rising to the commanding tone her people were accustomed to. "It is easy to throw words. How easy will you find it to face me?" She challenged the voice.

A dark laughter crawled its way out of the cave. The chittering increased in volume until she thought the noise has always been inside her skull.

"Come and see child." The voice beckoned her into the cave.

Marshaling her courage, Citra gave no thought to the emptiness that was this world now and walked across the expanse of nothingness until she came to the very mouth of the cave. Reaching up a hand she moved to brush the thick vines aside only to recoil as a hideously large spider the color of fresh spilled blood slid down right in front of her face. It hung suspended by a single silken thread, legs wide and trembling as if it were about to leap at her. On its wide back were black markings that she could make no sense of. Its bloated body was jiggling like an over filled water skin and she thought she could even hear a sloshing sound coming from it. Its over sized fangs worked ceaselessly, all the while strings of venom oozed front their tips to hang in the air like the thinnest of ribbons.

"It is a poison for the weak. Only the strongest will survive it." The voice threw her own words at her, the very same she'd spoken to Jason once.

Citra took deep breaths of air that she wasn't even sure was real and then held her hand out, palm up, and allowed the large spider to wrap its long hard legs around it. It felt like a heavy stone had settled onto her hand, but this one began to move up her arm with its segmented legs articulating in very precise motions. Where the venom dripped onto her skin it burned like a bee sting. She watched it as it crawled ever closer towards her shoulder and studied its black eyes as if in a trance. Then it vanished out of sight, dashing suddenly over her shoulder and into her long thick braids. She could feel it rooting around in the heavy mass of her hair and it was all she could do not to scream. This lasted moments, but it was a torture that could have been forever as far as she was concerned. Then the spider appeared on her other shoulder and made its way down her arm, crawling in that overly perfect manner that only made it seem all the more terrifying. Finally it settled on the back of her left hand and began to shiver so violently that her arm was jolted by the force of it.

The tiny part of her mind, that part in all humans that thinks on an animal level, screamed at her to sling the thing away. To flee from it as quickly as possible, but before she could even contemplate such actions the spider sank its large, dripping fangs into the flesh of her hand and she screamed.

Pain was such a pitiful word to describe what she felt as the spider poured its venom into her. She grabbed her arm with her other hand and screamed till her throat was raw and flecks of blood flew from her mouth. Her eyes watched horrified as the spider's bloated body began to shrivel, collapsing in on itself until it was empty. She prayed the worst was over, but she was so very wrong. The deflated arachnid's legs sprang up, their joints bending sharply so it could thrust their pointed tips down into her hand like eight white hot daggers.

Citra had no words, no thoughts for the searing torture that became her reality. Surely she was dead and this was her punishment, an eternity of this never ending misery.

The spider's legs spread out into her flesh, raising the skin of her hand as they tunneled into the meat, piercing her to the bone. Then the rest of its body followed as it began to burrow into the back of her hand, its fangs twisting and pulling a gaping hole open in her skin that welled with crimson blood. Its sagging body squeezed its way into the hole and Citra's mind lost all reason as she watched the nightmarish thing vanish below the surface of her flesh. The skin roiled as the thing moved about inside her hand, tearing its way through sinew and muscle with abandon. Then it ceased its movement and the bulging spot on her hand that it had formed fell flat. However the pain only continued to grow as black lines sprang into existence from the torn and bloody wounds.

She watched as every vein in her hand stood out in stark contrast to her dark skin, then the black lines began racing up towards her shoulder and across her naked chest to enshroud her heart. She couldn't even scream now and so she stood shaking, mouth open, eyes running with tears, her body no longer her own.

She could hear her heart beating a hammering tempo and then the venom filled it, replacing her blood and stilling the organ all at once. She felt herself grow cold and knew she was dead, knew it and yet refused it. No she could not die, not now. She had to atone. She had to make things right. She refused to die in the presence of that voice. The same one that had spoke so ill of Jason. No she would not allow it.

Citra Talugmai would not yield.

Her heart beat once, then twice, then it began to pump in earnest. Forcing the venom out and into her body so that her entire being was suffused with the searing agony of it. Citra welcomed it. Pain meant you were alive. Pain was a reminder that the struggle was not yet over. So she fought with everything she had. She found her voice and this time she did not scream, but roared at the top of her lungs. The venom ran its course and ended back in her left arm, the black lines abandoning her veins to swim to the surface of her skin. She watched as it began to form symbols that she was all too familiar with. She watched as her Tatau spread over her forearm, though incomplete as it had been, it was none the less there once more. She felt a surge of power at the sight of it, at her own strength of will.

She flexed her left arm, the slender muscles bunching like steel at her mental command and within moments the sagging and quite angry spider was expelled from the jagged hole it had ripped into the back of her hand. With lightning fast reflexes she flipped her hand over, catching and then crushing the demonic thing into a gooey paste, balling her hand into a fist as as she did so.

Her body was aflame with power and she felt ready to face anything.

"Enter." The voice commanded.

Citra stepped into the cave boldly and within that ultimate blackness she felt herself suddenly falling and was gone.


	10. Going shopping

Daisy woke screaming again, the nightmare gripping at her, wanting to drag her back down before it faded. Laying on her back panting she waited for the tremors that held her body captive to pass. She hated it, hated the utter feeling of weakness that always greeted her after the nightmares left. Never in her life, even during everything that had happened on the island, never had she felt helpless. She met everything head on. Her father often joked she'd make a hell of a soldier the way she never shied away from a challenge. If she failed at something she only pushed herself harder to exceed that limitation. It was what made her such a high caliber swimmer and one that could have gone all the way to gold. Well at least that's what some people used to say. That had never interested her however. Sure she liked to compete and to win, but make swimming her entire life? That wasn't for her. Daisy still had a lot of living to do and she didn't want to waste her youth on just that. She wanted to take a bite out of everything life had to offer, not just one thing.

With a heavy sigh she tried to extract herself from the sleeping bag that had become entangled with her legs, most likely while she thrashed around. Finally free of the damned thing she crawled out of the two man tent and stood to stretch. Looking around she blew loose strands of her blonde hair from her eyes. Same cave. Same old boat. Same little rocks circling the ashes of a dead campfire. Same other tents nobody was using any more. Same everything.

"Not the same Daisy." She muttered to herself. God she hated this so damn much! She was not weak! She was a strong woman who knew what she wanted and more times than not got it. Only these damn nightmares were just so...twisted.

At first it had been the same one on loop. Keith and Oliver dying while she watched. Every night that one came after her relentlessly, just gnawing away at her. Later Jason had started popping into it and he never had eyes, just ragged holes that cried blood. Sometimes he taunted her, but other times he offered to help her. For some reason the ones where he offered to help really bothered her. She'd be watching her friends suffering, dying, hearing them scream for her to help as the pirates gunned them down and then Jason, minus his eyes, would just be there, offering to go save them. To kill the pirates for her if she'd only ask him to. Only she never did. No matter how bad it got for Keith and Oliver she never let Jason help them, not once.

She just couldn't. It was too much like making a deal with the Devil, at least that's what she told herself. Jason had made his choice and it wasn't them. She'd never trust him after that, even dead and in a nightmare, not ever again. Besides he didn't deserve to play hero for them after what he'd done.

If it had stopped there maybe she could have gotten a handle on things somehow, but it didn't. New things had started to creep into her sleeping hours and they were as ugly as the first one was twisted. Things like her never having escaped the pirates and all the things they did to her. How they used her, tormented her, and did all they could to break her. In those she fought, kicking and screaming, no matter what. Even though every time they still won, she fought them every step of the way. Another nightmare that really was messed up had her being the one with the knife in the temple and Jason had been tied up. She'd stand there holding the knife to his throat and he'd just look at her with those empty eye sockets while the blood ran down his face and he'd smile at her and tell her to do it for Grant...and she would. She'd slit Jason's throat and watch him die, his face sagging as his life left him. She always felt so powerful in that one and that freaked her out. She didn't want to be like that. Not like Jason. Then came the worst of the bunch.

In this one she was tied up in that temple again, beside Liza, and after Jason slit his former girlfriend's throat, instead of passing out like he had back then, he would instead move over to her. Daisy could remember that particular dream in the greatest detail because it felt so real. His hand on her neck, fingers strong, his thumb brushing under her chin before he used it to press her head back, exposing her throat. Every time she'd wonder if she was going to beg for her life like Liza had or would she be strong. She wanted to be strong, she really did. Most of the time she would clamp her teeth together and just stare up at the sky and then she'd feel the blade cut into the soft skin of her throat and wake up screaming.

That version was the easiest to deal with. It was the other one, the one where she gave in and begged for her life that really tore her up. In that dream just as soon as Jason tilted her head back she would begin to cry and beg him not to do it. She'd promise him anything, no matter what it was. She'd say anything, do anything, if only he wouldn't kill her. Then he'd relax his hold on her and her head would lower so she could see him. Jason would smile, his fingers sliding up her neck to her cheek, his thumb tracing her lower lip and that's when she'd see his eyes. His real eyes. Pale green orbs that were friendly and warm and just so him. It was the only version of any of the nightmares where Jason didn't have holes for eyes. In that dream she hated her weakness and how badly she always wanted to throw her arms around him and thank him for saving her, for not killing her like all the others. She always woke from that one shivering with contempt for herself rather than screaming. She'd curse her dream self for being such a coward and hate herself for the tiny kernel of truth that remained inside her despite being awake.

As lonely as she was now and as much as she wished she could be with her friends again, she wanted even more to live, and she wondered to what ends would she go to ensure that she did.

Brushing her mind clear she stood thinking of what needed to be done today? Judging by the angle of the light coming in from the cave's entrance the sun hadn't been up long. Naturally her eyes turned to the boat that had been their hope of escaping the island for months. They'd patched every hole they could find the best that they could. Had started to stockpile things for the trip, things like food mostly. Thinking of the boat reminded her of the problems that still remained before it could get underway. Like how despite the engine working now it had no fuel at all. They had only been able to test fire the old rust bucket a couple of times while she worked on it before it had sputtered dry. So she had to find some fuel and get it into the cave. All on her own no less.

"Won't that be fun?" Frowning at the very idea of it.

Then she had to some how get the thing out of the cave. The bow of the boat had been swallowed by roots that were as thick as she was in places. She had no idea what kind of tree they had belonged to, but there wasn't even a stump up above the cave on the Doc's property. The tree must have been cut down when the house had been built. Oh and to add insult to injury the boat was only half in the water and the damn thing wasn't one of those little two man jobs you could just push into the water. No it was a full on let's go fishing off the coast all day boats and while that made it almost perfect to get off the island, it meant she was going to have a monumental job of getting it fully into the water. Then on top of all that, because yes there just had to be more, the back of the cave where the water was, where the boat had to go, was littered with rocks the size of cars that blocked it off like a solid wall. It was going to take either Superman or a lot of damn explosives to get past that.

"Goddamn it!" Giving voice to her frustration, she bent down and grabbed a rock near her foot and threw it as hard as she could at the boat. It bounced off with a dull thunk and plopped into the water with a splash and then the cave was as quiet as the ever present drips would allow it to be.

Chest heaving with pent up emotions, Daisy wiped the back of her arm across her mouth with a frown set deep on her lips. "I'm such an idiot. Such a damn idiot." Fuming at herself for how completely foolish the entire boat thing had been all along. The damn thing was never leaving this cave, not ever. She brought a hand to her brow and tried to calm herself with deep breathes. Just like before a big swim meet, just breathe. Just...breathe.

Suddenly Dory from Finding Nemo popped into her head with 'Just keep swimming...Just keep swimming.'

Daisy's frown broke into a little smile only to crumble as tears slid hotly down her face. She loved that movie and didn't care who made fun of her for it. That silly kid's movie never got old no matter how many times she watched it. Only it was part of her past now. Part of a life she would never know again. She'd never see Dory, not ever again.

Throwing her hands up, she turned around in the cave to face a different dull colored wall, that looked exactly like the rest of the place. "I'm crying over a fish from a kid's movie. Jesus Christ I've lost my damn mind."

Ok, forget this she thought, just get back to the problems. Yeah because that would make her feel better. Just focus Daisy, she commanded herself, her mind falling into place according to her will. The nightmares weren't here right now. She was alone and there were things she had to get done or things she should at least do so she didn't go nuts out of boredom or let depression drag her into an early grave. Right so what's next? What should she put her energy into?

Moving through the cave she climbed up onto the boat and then down into the cabin just ahead of the twin berths. This was where they'd been storing the food they were going to take when they were ready to leave. With Dr Earnhardt's help they'd gotten a pretty good supply of canned food and bottled water, intending to add fresher food just before leaving. It had all been planned out for the six of them, well until Jason had dropped his bombshell on them about staying. It hadn't been much for six people who didn't know how long they'd have to make it last, but for the past month it had been more than enough for just her. Now though the stash was running low and she figured in the next two weeks it would run out. This was a problem that deserved her attention for sure she decided.

Time to go to work.

First she went back to her tent and took the small .38 revolver and a handful of shells. The first she tucked into the waist of her jeans, at the small of her back, the others she stuffed into a pocket. Next she sat down to pull on some decent socks, the ones with the least holes, and her sneakers. It was going to be hot again out there and she so wished she could just wear her tank top, but she knew better. A vicious sunburn was not what she wanted and she had no idea how long she'd be exposed to the sun's rays. So on with a long sleeved shirt that was thin enough to at least let the breeze through. She made quick work of her hair, pulling it back from her face in a low ponytail, then added a twist and a tuck to shorten it all the more. Her hair was getting longer than she normally kept it, reaching just past her shoulders now.

Feeling ready as she'd ever be, Daisy left the cave and took the curling path up to what was left of Dr Earnhardt's house. As always she avoided looking towards the gazebo. Heading towards the greenhouse she remembered back to before everything had gone to Hell. To a time when Dr Earnhardt had shown her something.

 **→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←→→→•←←←**

Then...

Dr Earnhardt lead Daisy towards the greenhouse by the hand. He was fidgety today despite his regimen of medication as he put it, and it showed in the way he walked, shuffling along in quick little steps, to how his reddened eyes darted around as if half expecting a bomb to go off. His lanky figure was stooped a bit as he turned back to look at her, his gaze focusing once it settled on her face.

His voice stern, "Now Agnes I want to show you something, but you must promise never to tell another soul. Not even that boy Jason alright?" Offering her a tiny grin before lifting his pinky finger to his mouth, chewing on the nail nervously.

Agnes again. Daisy was pretty sure Agnes was his daughter, or used to be. The poor man obviously wasn't all there in a lot of ways, but he had been a rock she had clung to after Jason had gone off to find the others. She didn't want to cause the old guy any more stress than she already had so she just went along with it, like she always did lately. "I promise."

"Good girl." Earnhardt nodded quickly, then stopping his steps so suddenly that she almost ran into him. Taking his pinky away from his mouth he gaped at her for a moment. "I want you to understand that I don't dislike the boy Agnes. He's a fine and decent boy, you do understand that don't you Agnes?"

"Sure I do." Her heart breaking for the old man. He was lost real good this time.

"Yes well it's just...I have a secret and as you know secrets are best kept close to heart my dear." His long fingers sliding up her arm to rest on her shoulder as he smiled at her. "Special things like secrets must be kept of course."

Daisy reached up to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I understand."

Nodding again he started back towards the greenhouse with her in tow. Once inside he made a big show of darting around, looking out all the dirty windows, and even under the tables before shutting both doors and locking them. Then he went to the table he always worked at and bent down low, his knees making quiet popping sounds as his old joints flexed. Looking back up, he waved her to him with both hands.

"Here, look here." Pointing at the floorboards under the table once she joined him, crouching down herself.

She looked and saw just old rotting boards and dirt. "What am I looking for?" She asked, wondering if he was seeing something that wasn't actually there. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Exactly!" He declared with a lifted finger, triumph in his voice. "That is the entire point. You see nothing. However with a little effort..."

He leaned under the table, putting one hand to the floor for support as his other began picking at the corner of a board. Daisy watched as his slender fingers pried the corner up and then he flipped the board over completely. In short work he removed two more boards and soon a hole in the floor was before her.

"Now with the prize exposed all we need do is simply remove the goodies." He chuckled a bit at some joke only he understood, then his hands delved into the darkness of the hole. He came out from under the table, sitting down on the floor with a tired grunt. His hands held a rusty metal toolbox in his lap. Lifting his blurry eyes to her he grinned lopsidedly. "Ah yes, here we are."

Daisy had to admit her curiosity was piqued now. "Aren't you full of surprises?" Smiling at him.

"Yes, I mean no. Not at all." He seemed to pause to think about it. "Well I suppose one could say that in this case it shall be a surprise yes. Only I want you to know of it. In case you ever find need of it."

With a flourish he threw the toolbox open and turned it so she could see inside. What she saw were little tight bundles of cash, a very well drawn map of the island, complete with landmarks and even settlement names, and a rather large folding pocketknife. Daisy realized that she was staring at the doc's life savings as it were.

"The ah, money is of course from my business with Vaas and his men." He lowered his head in shame then. "P-Please don't think less of me Agnes." He begged softly. "Your father has had a rather tough time of it and he's made some crude choices I'm afraid."

Daisy knelt before him and wrapped the rail thin man up in a warm hug. Pressing her face into his shoulder she spoke quietly to him. "I don't care. You're a good man, a very good man."

"Oh Agnes I wish good men didn't have to do horrid things." He whined sadly into her hug, but pulled away, snorting back the tears in a very awkward fashion.

She let her arms fall as she leaned back from him. "Ok now?"

"Quite." He said in his almost dignified way. "Now then back to the task at hand. This as you can imagine is a lot of money and many of ill repute would do grave harm to have at it. Thus I hide it along side this." Taking out the pocketknife and unfolding it. With a click the blade locked into place and the entire thing was close to eight inches long, the blade nice and wide, with a wood finished handle fitted with brass ends. Holding the knife as if he'd never held it before, let alone used the thing, he looked at her over its gleaming edge. "One can never be too careful. Protection is of paramount importance my dear Agnes. This wicked tool gives me peace of mind. The release is here you see." Touching the back of the handle where a small metal bar could be pressed, unlocking the blade so it could be folded away.

Daisy was well versed with pocketknives having grown up around boats, you always kept one with you in case you had to cut rope. "Makes perfect sense." Reaching into the box, she withdrew the folded map and carefully opened it. It was actually a patchwork of sketch paper, held together by clear tape, and obviously hand drawn. "What's this for?"

Earnhardt was ruffling through the little bundles of cash, having deposited the knife back into the box. He looked up and just stared at the map where Daisy had laid it out on the floor as if he'd never seen it before. Then all of a sudden, as he often did, he seemed to remember.

"Yes that!" Setting the old toolbox aside he went up on his hands and knees to look the map over. Pointing out several things here and there. "This you see is Valsa Docks." Indicating a place to the North East of where they were now. It sat along the coast line of the island, above the maze of sandbars and smaller landmasses that dotted the Western side of Rook island. "Now the Valsa Docks are to be avoided at all costs. It's an outpost you see. A point of contention between the pirates and the tribe. One or the other will have control of it, but regardless of who holds it you must understand that the other will come to reclaim it sooner or later. There are many such places scattered here and there as I've pointed out."

Seeing just how many places he'd pointed to and the many other places marked on the map, Daisy was not thrilled at the prospect of Jason out there all alone facing so much. What if he went into one of those outposts not knowing any better? The thought caused her gut to clench.

"Ah now here on the other hand." Earnhardt went on as if lecturing a room of students at a university. "This here is a safe place to go should one require the procurement of fundamental things." His long finger tapping the map lightly, marking a place much closer. In fact it looked like it was at the bottom of the slope just down from the plateau the Doc's house was built on.

"What is that?" She asked, leaning in for a better look.

"Ah...um, that is Tane's place." Floundering with the name at first. "His home as well as what passes for a general store, or rather the closest one I should say."

"General store?" The doubt in her voice clear.

Earnhardt nodded gravely. "Oh yes. It's where I get all the basics of living you know, well what I can not make myself. Which brings me to the point of showing you this little secret my girl."

Taking great care as he folded the map and tucked it safely back into the toolbox, closing the lid slowly. "I want you to know that should you ever find need of anything within this box it is yours to do with as you will." Patting the box as he looked around, his eyes lost in various thoughts. "Yes. Yours to use. One day." His voice growing softer. "If you need...it...that...is." He turned to look at her.

"Ok." Daisy nodded, biting her lower lip so she wouldn't start to cry. He seemed so lost right now and all she wanted to do was help him find his way back.

He smiled brightly. "Then it's settled. Our little secret." He shushed with a finger to his lips before crawling back under the table and putting everything back as it was.

Daisy was still trying to sort out a few things.

"So did you draw the map?" She asked, resting back on her hands.

He glanced at her as he was finishing up with the last board, his hands freezing with it held almost back in place. "Oh Heaven's no. I had it commissioned from a rather talented fellow. A courier as it were." Letting the board fall into place he came out from under the table and waved his hand around. "Traveled all over the island. A necessity in his line of work you understand. Quite good at making his deliveries promptly, rain or shine." He went quiet, a far off look in his red rimmed eyes. "Well he was until he was shot in Badtown over a poker game. Rotten luck." Then he brightened. "Wizard with drawing though, not that I have to tell you, as you've seen the map. His handiwork is without reproach."

She nodded, adjusting herself so she could draw her knees up to her chest, hugging her arms around them. "Why did you have the map made?"

He faltered at her question, his mouth working as if trying to form the right words. The whole time he looked around, starting to panic. "...I...Well..." He caught himself, bracing a hand across his chin, then took a slow breath. Nodding to himself before explaining. "I had intended to explore the island in greater detail you see. After the house was completed of course. In truth the very boat that I arrived upon still resides here. Itself hidden away, though not by my choice."

He was starting to ramble, but she didn't interrupt him. "Tidal surge you see. Perhaps some off shore quake or other. Not two...perhaps three years after my arrival. Waves washed most of the sandbars and the surrounding areas completely underwater for weeks. Drove my boat into a cave, which I was to learn later was only the smallest part of a much larger system that traverses under our very feet you see. Well the rising water level combined with the funneled pressure the cave provided drove the boat deep into the ground so that the poor thing will never see the horizon again I fear." Plopping down on the floor to sit, he brushed his hands down the front of his shirt. "So you see after that and what with all the other troubles I soon learned this island contains I ah...Well I decided it prudent to remain here." Gesturing to the greenhouse. "Where its safe."

"Safe huh?" The idea of a greenhouse being some sort of bulwark against the world seemed out of place. The thing was mostly glass after all.

"Yes." He was very serious now. "I have to keep you safe Agnes. No more accidents. Never again."

Daisy caught the pain lacing his voice and tried to turn things to another subject. "Explain something to me. Why do you have all that money? I mean I saw a lot of different kinds, not just American, but that's not it. I mean on this island what use is money?"

The old doctor smiled, happy to explain for his little Agnes. Anything for her. "You see, despite its apparent removal from civilization, Rook island has a very thriving economy. Locals as well as members of the tribe offer all manner of goods. Fruits, vegetables, animal skins, meat, hand crafted items. They are quite the industrious people when they want to be. However you will find that though they do partake in trading goods for goods or services ect, they will also include transactions of monetary value. Money to be succinct."

"So like this Tane guy, you pay him for what he has?"

"Precisely." Clapping his hands together once at her question. He truly enjoyed talking with Agnes. He'd missed her so very much. "Now the necessity for the currency is simple. The pirates have the market cornered on items that one simply can not find on Rook island otherwise. Items they procure from the victims of their dreadful work."

It all snapped into place for Daisy then. The pirates took people hostage, then sold them into slavery or ransomed them. It wasn't just that though. They also took everything the people owned. Phones, computers, tablets, clothing, everything. She'd seen piles of luggage back in Vaas's compound and the convoy she'd escaped from had been loaded down with suitcases and trunks heading for who knows where. So the pirates were like a big distribution market for off island goods. Jesus they used everything. Nothing went to waste. They sold you, then they sold your stuff. Suddenly the secret the Doc had shared with her took on a whole new level of importance.

"Thank you." Daisy said, tilting her head so it rested on one knee.

Earnhardt scratched his temple and seemed confused. "For what?"

"Sharing your secret with me." Grinning at him, knowing he'd get it soon, just like he always did.

"Oh...Oh!" Turning his head to look under the table before looking back at her. "Anything for you Agnes." Smiling, truly smiling at her.

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Now...

Stepping inside the greenhouse she marveled at how fast the plants Dr Earnhardt had been growing were taking over the place. The inside of the building was a tangle of roots and vines, mixed with flowers of all sorts, many of which she had no clue about their names. Then the various smells washed over her. Crinkling her nose, she wondered just which plants were giving off what smell, but decided there was no way she could tell or even really pick out just one amid the overlapping aroma of nature bundled in too small a place.

Crouching down she made short work of getting at the old toolbox where it was hidden under the floor. She took two tight bundles of cash, the knife, and the map. Once that was done she put things back just like she'd found them and left the greenhouse. Back outside she took in a huge lung full of fresh air and was quite happy to be out of that oppressively hot place. How on earth the old guy had stayed in there all the time was beyond her.

A little grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as a sudden thought struck her. "High as a kite, that's how."

She stuffed the cash in the opposite pocket she had the .38 rounds in, then slid the pocketknife into her back pocket. The map she held onto as she walked down the steep path that would take her to the makeshift gate of sorts that marked the edge of the house's yard as it were. Not even a gate really, just a space in the make shift fence that ran the length of the grounds that didn't fall away to sheer cliffs. Just on the other side of that truly sad fence, the thing was made of wooden slats and wire for God's sake, sat a very old and very ugly pickup truck.

Daisy stood looking at it and had to wonder if the company that made the thing actually had a shit brown color option, because the damn truck looked for all the world like a turd with wheels if you asked her. It was some sort of knock off thing at that because she was pretty sure there was no such company as the Fevy Motors. It was like somebody decided to rip off Ford and Chevy at the same time and all they could come up with was a truck that even Nissan would call a compact. If Grant had ever laid eyes on this thing he'd have called it an over grown golf cart for sure.

Thinking of Grant didn't hurt any more. It had been sucker punch painful for weeks, but slowly as time went by she'd gotten over that loss way back at the start of all this. Now, months later his absence was something she could deal with and not break into tears. She'd loved him and most likely always would in some small way. He'd never done anything wrong by her and then his death left him with a sparkling record so yeah, the next guy she was with had a real hard road ahead of him. After all he was going to be compared to Grant Brody and not many guys could measure up to him in the first place.

Smiling at his memory she shook her head and laughed at the truck. "Babe you would have hated this thing."

Walking around to the driver's door she wondered if it would start. The grass had grown so high around it that as she pulled the door open it pushed the green stalks down. There was a radiating heat from inside the cab and she went ahead and rolled the window down, knowing that was the best form of AC she was going to get. She slid behind the wheel, the cracked seat cover making crinkling sounds as she settled herself. She put the map in the sun visor overhead and then felt around under the seat for the keys. Sweat was already trickling down her sides and she could feel it on her face. After a few more passes with her fingers, hoping nothing creepy crawly was under there, she came up with the keys.

"Ok turd-mobile don't let me down." Daisy muttered as she slid the key into the ignition. She added a silent prayer and then turned the key. The old truck sputtered and then nothing. She tried again, getting another sputter and then nothing.

"Don't do this to me you piece of...Ok Daisy calm down. It's going to work." She chided herself, leaning her head on the steering wheel. "It will work."

A third turn of the key and the sputter started up, but this time it drug on and finally turned into a jostling shake as the engine caught. The thing didn't purr, more like it had a hacking cough, but the truck was running. Daisy gave a triumphant shout and drummed her hands on the dash.

"Way to go turd-mobile!" She exclaimed joyfully.

If the fuel gauge was right, which was a big if, then she had about half a tank. Should be plenty for where she was going to go. Then a sudden thought occurred to her. Switching the truck off she leaned back against the seat and stared out at the island stretching off into the distance before her. Way down there at the bottom of the slope, down a very twisting dirt road, was the rest of Rook Island. The place that had taken everything away from her, that had changed her for the rest of her life. The pirates and that damn tribe were down there and she hated both groups in equal measure. Even if she didn't run into any of them she'd still have to contend with the locals. There was no guarantee that any of them would be better considering how out of place she'd be. Daisy was pretty sure there weren't that many blonde American women running around the island and she wasn't sure how the locals themselves felt about outsiders. It wasn't like she had anything to go off of after all. She'd either been held in captivity or hiding in a cave almost the entire time she'd been here. Who's to say the locals didn't hate outsiders? Not to mention what could happen to a woman alone in a place that had no laws at all. Out here it was dog eat dog as far as she could figure it.

"Damn." Gripping the wheel she tapped her fingers lightly and pondered some things.

Should she try getting food on her own? She had the gun, could she shoot something? She'd seen pigs rooting around by the stream that ran down the plateau's North side. Maybe she could shoot one of them and then...just...gut it...

She suppressed a gag. "Yeah no. Not that desperate yet."

Tough though she might be, Daisy admitted to herself that she didn't want to even imagine killing and gutting a pig, at least not quite yet. Besides the sound of the gun might attract attention and she sure as hell wasn't going to try to kill one of the oinkers with the knife or machete. There weren't any sort of plants up here she could eat either, well none she knew of that is. So it looked like her only choice was that general store place Earnhardt had told her about. It looked like this guy Tane was the best bet to try and get more food. After all Earnhardt would have warned her about going there if it was dangerous and he hadn't. Still though, if this guy sold things then there might be other people there and she didn't want to draw any unwanted attention.

Still tapping her fingers she wondered aloud,"Hmm, what to do?"

Well she could wait till dark and then head down there. Maybe that would lessen the chance of her running into trouble. Maybe this Tane guy wouldn't mind a late customer, especially when she paid him for his trouble. She was sure she had more than enough cash to make it worth his while.

"Sounds like a plan girl." She said to herself before sliding out of the truck and shutting the door. She left the window down so it wouldn't turn into an oven again, well not more than it would any way that is.

Heading back up the trail she wiped sweat from her face with her sleeve. Absently she wondered about how much she'd started talking to herself lately. She'd never done that before, it had started to just happen. Maybe it was her way of dealing with being alone. Hearing a voice, even her own, might be something she craved. She was sure it wasn't a good sign, after all wasn't talking to yourself sort of like a hand in hand sign of being nuts?

"It's only bad when you start to answer yourself." She quipped with a chuckle.

She drew up short and stood still for a few seconds. Ok that was not even remotely funny at all. Swallowing thickly she rubbed her arms with both hands, her feet moving her forward again as she headed towards the cave and its cool darkness. Just keep it together she thought to herself, just keep everything together. You can do this. You will do this.

"I can do this." Her voice echoed back at her once she was inside the cave. It was a very pitiful greeting.

She spent the rest of the day trying to lose herself in one of the books Earnhardt had lent them from his collection back when she and Liza were the only ones in the cave. She'd read them all of course, some several times, but there really wasn't much else to do. So she lay on top of her sleeping bag, inside her bright orange two man tent while reading The Gunslinger by Stephen King. It really wasn't her sort of book, but she had to admit the idea of the Gunslinger character had this dark romantic quality to it. A knight from a dying world who refused to back down from anything. Daisy could respect that kind of guy. The Gunslinger was just as ruthless as the villains he faced and most definitely was not your typical good guy by any stretch of the definition.

Despite how much she found herself liking the character, she couldn't read all day, it was giving her a headache. Setting the book aside she stared up at the tent's apex and wondered why she bothered with the thing at all. It wasn't like she was exposed to the elements inside the cave. Her fingers trailed down the closest wall, feeling the water proof material. She felt safer in here though for some reason. The admission made her feel silly, but it was true. Being inside the small space gave her some feeling of comfort that being exposed to the inside of the cave just couldn't, not with her being alone now.

As the hours of sunlight passed she ate when she was hungry. Drank when she was thirsty. Napped when she felt like it. Just existing while she waited for night to finally arrive. Now and then she would wonder when the bleakness of it all would finally be too much to bear? Those sorts of thoughts always ended up with her holding the revolver in her hands, just touching it. Memorizing every part of it by sight and feel as she turned it this way and that. She'd only fired a gun once at a range in LA to finish that self defense class she'd taken one summer. That had been a revolver too, but a bigger one than this. She couldn't remember what kind it had been, but she was fairly sure it had a lot more power than this .38, so she was pretty sure she could handle this one. She hadn't test fired it yet, just like her thinking back at the truck, she hadn't wanted to draw attention to herself. This small gun had the power to take life...or grant peace.

"No." Setting her lips tight, she put the gun down beside her on the sleeping bag. Then turned on her side and tried to let another nap take her.

She woke with a start, the tendrils of a dream licking at her consciousness, but this one she couldn't remember thankfully. Taking up the gun she crawled out of the tent and looked to the entrance of the cave. Darkness met her eyes and she knew it was time to get going. Tucking the gun at the small of her back she pulled her shirt down to cover it, then pushed her sleeves up since there was no sun to worry about.

Minutes later she was back in the truck and had gotten it going on the second try. Her hand was half way to the switch for the headlights when she caught herself. If firing off a gun was a bad idea, then somebody seeing headlights winding down the slope would be just as bad wouldn't it? Leaning forward she looked up through the dirty windshield and saw the moon in the almost cloudless sky. It wasn't full, but it was bright enough that it set the colors of the world to ghostly hues of their former glory. Casting her eyes down the slope she thought about the road and felt pretty sure she could navigate it without the headlights. Daisy figured she could try at the very least and if not then the headlights would have to come on.

"Ok girl. Now or never." Giving herself a tiny pep talk.

Fighting the old transmission she got the truck rolling and began the bouncy descent down the slope, doing her best to keep the thing on the dirt road. What she wouldn't give for some power steering right about now, she thought. She came around a turn a little too fast and nearly ran into some goats that seemed to be having a meeting right in the middle of the road. "Shit!" She hissed through her teeth as she cranked the wheel hard to the right, the goats bleated in surprise and darted off. The truck bucked off the road, dipping down into the tall grass as the tires tore up the ground. Daisy fought with the wheel for all she was worth and managed to get the truck back on the road, even if it was sitting sideways now. She threw it into neutral and sat with her foot pressing down on the brake as hard as she could, trying to get her breathing under control. In the distance she heard the goats bleating somewhere out of sight. Then and there she made a vow that if things got really bad she'd shoot the goats before the pigs. They deserved it.

After a few more minutes to settle her nerves she got back under way and made it all the way down the slope with no more surprises. Once the ground leveled out she put the truck in park and pulled the map down. Taking a look at it she figured out where she was roughly and then worked out just where the Tane guy's place should be. Seemed simple enough. Drive along the road until the water came in from her left, then turn and follow the beach North and keep an eye out for something that looked like a house or a store or, well something not the beach. Hopefully she would just find the place she wanted first and not some random local's. She wanted to just get some supplies and get back. Nothing more, nothing less.

She could already feel her pulse racing, the anxious jitters that caused her eyes to keep darting around. She felt exposed out here away from the cave, like she was already in trouble. Somebody could have seen her coming down the slope since it was so bright out tonight after all. They could be on their way right now. On their way to get her and take her back to a cage...or a temple.

Her fingers held the steering wheel in a death grip and it took everything in her not to spin the truck around and throttle it right back up the slope and go hide in her tent. She wanted to so bad, but she couldn't give into that. She refused to hide up there till she died. That wasn't what she was going to do, it wasn't who she was.

"Get yourself together." Daisy commanded herself sternly.

Purposely she put the truck in gear and drove away from the slope, her eyes darting to the rear view mirror now and then to watch it grow smaller as the distance grew. She heard the waves before she saw them and it wasn't any time at all before the road gave way to a wide sandbar with the water lapping at both sides. Turning left she drove along the white sand beach, thankful for the smoother going compared to the dirt road. In a surprisingly short time she saw something in the distance, an outline that was out of place. Sharp edges soon defined a large shack with a tin roof and a wrap around porch. As Daisy drew closer she saw that there was light coming from inside the place, seeping through the cracks of the closed shutters on the windows. Once she was right on top of the place she slowed the truck down to a crawl and then let it come to a stop beside an old jeep parked up next to the shack. She cut the engine, sure to take the key with her as she stepped out.

The place was built pretty sturdy and out of actual lumber. The porch was a lot bigger on this side of the place and had several coolers and even an old freezer pressed against the wall. There were chairs strewn about in the sand and on the porch as well as tables to go with them. It looked for all the world like a run down beach bar to Daisy. In fact all it was missing was some hanging lights and it was ready to go.

The sound of a screen door screeching open drew her attention and made her heart jump into her throat. Before she could do anything or even think to reach for the gun a glaring light blinded her. Instinctively her hands went up to cover her eyes.

"Who's there?" A man's voice asked loudly.

By his accent Daisy guessed he was a local, at least she hoped that was all he was. She tried to see past the light to the owner of the voice, but that was not happening.

"Hi uh...Listen I'm looking for a guy named Tane." She said in what she hoped was a friendly enough tone. "I was told he had a store or something like a store around here."

"Little late for shopping." The voice said from behind the light.

Lowering her hands, Daisy turned her face away from the glare and focused on the ground a few feet away, letting her eyes adjust. "Yeah it is. Look I'm sorry I just need to find this Tane guy ok. So if you're not him can you maybe point me in the right direction?"

There was a pause and then the voice again. "Who told you?"

"What?"

The voice was calm, but wary. "Who told you Tane had a store?"

Daisy didn't see any harm in telling the truth at this point. Either she was in trouble here or she wasn't. "Dr Earnhardt."

The light went out and Daisy turned to see an older man with dark skin standing in the doorway of what looked like a house from what she could see inside. In one hand he held a flashlight, in the other a shotgun aimed down at the floor. The man had a full head of close cropped black hair and laugh lines so deep they could have been etched into his face with a chisel. He walked towards her, tucking the flashlight into the waist of his pants. The old green shirt he wore looked so thread bare she wondered how it hadn't fallen apart before now. He stopped a few feet way and looked her over, not stepping down from the porch. His face was friendly and his eyes matched the sudden smile the spread over his features.

"Doc E huh?" He asked warmly. "Yeah you don't look like you're from round here." Cocking a thumb at his chest. "I'm Tane."

Daisy sagged with relief. "Oh thank God." She said.

"You must be Agnes." Tane said with surety.

Daisy caught herself before she corrected him. "Yeah."

Tane nodded, then turned to prop the shotgun against the wall. "Guess if you're here, then bad things up at the house, huh?" Turning back to her with a bit of a frown on his lips. "While back I saw smoke from up there so I was going to go up an check. See if Doc E was alright ya know. Then I saw all those Rakyat fellas coming down the way an figured that couldn't be good. Since they looked mighty serious an all."

Daisy wiped a hand across her brow and nodded, her other resting on her hip. "Yeah it wasn't any good at all." Flashes of Dr Earnhardt's body and the sound of flies filling her mind.

Tane nodded in understanding. "Guess you came to put things right up at the place then?"

She was confused as she looked at the older man where he stood on the porch. "What do you mean put things right?"

"Way I figure it, you came to the island cause Doc E ain't with us no more. Passed on ya know. You being his kid an all, so what was his is yours. Figure you wanna do right by him an all that."

Daisy grasped his meaning and fell into his assumption quickly enough. After all it gave her a good cover story. "Yeah...I, ah...When I didn't hear from him I came out to check on him and...Well it's like you said." Running a hand down her arm as she avoided Tane's eyes. "It wasn't any good at all."

Tane shook his head, his frown deepening. "He was a good fella Doc E. Bit on an off ya know, but good just the same yeah." Bending over he pulled up one pants leg and showed his calf to Daisy. "He set my leg right after a shark laid into me. I was fishing drunk and fell outta the boat. Barely made it back into the thing before one of'em took a liking to me. Damn near pulled me back in, but my mates got hold of me and then got me back here. One went to get Doc E an he set this right so I didn't lose it."

She could see the ugly welted scars that encircled his lower leg and winced. "Sounds like him...like dad I mean." The lie a bitter pill for her to swallow, but she felt it was something she had to do.

Tane stood up and clapped his hands together, the frown gone from his face. He looked at her hopefully. "So you're the Agnes he was always going on about. His little girl. Tell truth I thought he made you up. Doc E was as off as he was on ya know." Laughing a little bit at some memory or other. "Yeah, but I liked him. So you need something from me then, huh?"

"Yes I do." She sighed with relief. "Supplies. Food and water mostly, but I wouldn't mind looking through whatever you got for anything really. I might see something else I want."

Tane grinned broadly and reached a hand down towards her. "Come on up Agnes. I'll set you up with a drink an then we can go through what I got, see what catches your eye, yeah?"

Accepting his hand and starting up the steps to the porch, Daisy felt hope for the first time in a long time. She was talking with an actual person and things felt like there just might be some better times on their way. "Sounds like a plan to me."


	11. Wishful thinking

It's been said that when you are about to die your life flashes before your eyes. For Jason the best he got were fragmented snapshots, none of which he wanted to remember. Where were the good memories? The happy days of his youth? Instead he got a play by play of some very shitty things.

 _Walking out of the cave under Dr Earnhardt's place after telling everybody that he wasn't leaving with them. Declaring that he'd found where he belonged, here on Rook Island. Not looking back, feeling like he couldn't bear to face them again, then Daisy's voice rising over Liza's sobs. "Go on then. Take care of yourself. It's what you're good at."_

Selfish asshole. What were you thinking?

 _Riley, bloody and shot, sitting in that cell. Alone, most likely scared out of his mind. Then the beating began. Slapping his little brother around, demanding answers from him, and Riley was so lost. He had no idea what to say, nothing he could have done. Then that small reprieve when Sam rewired the camera. Precious seconds to pull the ski mask off so Riley knew it was him. The shock on his face, then the panic, the terror of being told he couldn't leave the cell. Sam's warning that the interrogation had to look real, that Hoyt had to believe that Foster had broken Riley...that he had to hurt his little brother. That hopeless moment where he knew he couldn't do it, but then Riley told him to. His own little brother told him it was ok to hurt him. To do whatever it took, just to promise that he would get him out afterwards. Yeah, because that's what big brothers do right. They protect their little brothers. They always do the best they can for them. Then the feel of his fist as it slammed into Riley again and again and the screams as he pushed his thumb into the ragged bullet hole in his shoulder before Riley had blessedly collapsed._

Monster. Big brothers protect. They give it their all.

" _Oh god, I can't do this Grant." Jason whined, looking at the dead man as his brother pulled the knife from the man's throat before tucking it away._

" _Hey." His older brother moved quietly across the room, resting strong hands on his shoulders, looking him right in the eye. Assertive, calm, ever the man who had his shit together, Grant knew just what to say to get through to him. "Jay, Jay, Jay...Look at me. I can't find Liza, and Riley, and the others without you. So pull it together ok?"_

" _Ok...Sorry."_

 _Grant smiled just a little, nodded, then turned to lead the way. Jason had always admired Grant. Always saw the kind of man he was. Strong, determined, but not full of himself like so many guys would have been. He was so much better, so much more...in every way._

You should have left me in that cage bro. If it had been you...then things wouldn't have turned out so fucked up. You would have saved them all. You would have done it.

 _A single gunshot that changed everything. He was trying to stop the blood, trying to say how sorry he was, trying anything to make the world not be what it was. The blood spilling through his fingers no matter how hard he pressed and his brother's eyes staring at him. Like he wanted to say something, but he never would. All the while Vaas was ranting about something._

Vaas and that stupid fucking voice of his. He would never forget that voice. Never forgive it.

" _You are powerful." Citra breathed warmly against his cheek even as she secured the ropes around his wrists. "You are perfect."_

How could he have ever believed that shit? He was nothing but a killer, a monster through and through. There was nothing good inside him any more. Nothing worth holding onto. Everything he cared about was gone. His friends...Riley...all gone because of him. Dr Earnhardt was dead. Sam was dead. Everyone who came into contact with him became tainted. He wasn't something that belonged around other people anymore. He wasn't a person, but something less. Something bloody and raw. What was the point of living when you had no life? Existing wasn't enough, not nearly enough.

Jason felt the air rushing by him as he plummeted, the world a spinning vortex of moonlit colors. Everything was a blur and not just the world, but his mind as well. Why did he keep getting back up? Why didn't he just stay down? Just give up. Hadn't he been through enough? Wouldn't it be better if he just stopped, just died? Why was he bothering to go on anyway?

 _Vaas's voice broke into his thoughts. "I am so disappointed! You showed so much promise Jason, so much fucking promise. Now here you are, trapped like a fucking rat."_

Grant's eyes...the blood. Nothing he could do to stop it, to change it. Grant died and a part of him went with him. Anger, a swelling sensation that saturated every part of him.

" _You are angry Jason. You...Are angry. I get that. I get it. I mean without family who the fuck are we?" Vaas asked calmly._

Riley...Grant...Liza...Oliver...Keith...Daisy...why? Why am I still here after all this?

" _What, you want to run?" Vaas demanded. "Huh? You want to run, you want to disrespect me?" His voice rising, shouting over the blood thundering in Jason's ears. "You want to fuck with me? I mean, you come here, with your...with your pretty boy face, right, and your pretty boy phone, your dimwit brother, and you want to fuck with me." Screaming at him now. "You want to fuck with me!" That insane laughter. "I like that, no, I respect that!"_

Jason wanted to kill him. Pure and simple. Just fucking kill that scar headed motherfucker. No snappy one liners. No fair fucking fight. He just wanted to grind that smug son of a bitch under his fucking heel and watch him die. That was all he wanted. All he needed. Just one little thing. One small unimportant thing in the grand scheme of the universe, but to Jason it was all he had left.

Just kill Vaas.

The dark surface of the lake loomed up at him. Instinctively Jason pointed his feet, crossed his arms, and tried not to tense up. It wasn't a thought, only the barest of survival surges going off inside his brain. He plunged deep into the warm waters, all the air leaving him in one painful gush as his body absorbed the impact. Were he a lesser man, had his body not gone through Hell and back and been forged into a living weapon he would have perished. The pain was a cleansing song that raced through him and cleared his mind. He began to kick towards the surface. He would not die here. Not now, not just yet.

Breaking through and into the night air he took breath after breath and choked a few times as he tried not to swallow more water than he already had. Treading the dark water he shook his head, then got his bearings. That way to shore he thought, and began swimming towards the bank. It was a long swim, but Jason was a natural swimmer and kept a steady pace until he felt the lake bed rise up enough that he could get his feet under him. Then he sloshed through the dark water, splashing loudly as he went. He didn't care what heard him, be it man or beast. Little by little the lake fell away until finally he staggered onto solid land, falling to his hands and knees with a groan just before throwing up. His stomach rebelled against the lake water and sent it flying from him in tremor inducing mouthfuls. After what felt like forever he rolled onto his back and lay panting. He really hated throwing up.

Overhead the moon watched him with all the interest that one might have given an ant. Lifting a shaky hand he flipped the pale globe off. "Kiss my ass."

Wincing he rolled back over and pushed himself up. Standing was a task at first, but as the waves of nausea passed he could manage. Now where was that outpost? He started walking forward, leaving the dark lake behind and entering waist high grass. His bare feet picked up the pace and soon he was jogging along, skirting a gathering of large rocks as he headed in the direction he thought the outpost should be. The sound of waves was steadily growing louder and he knew he was at least getting closer to the ocean. Once he found the beach he was sure the outpost wouldn't be too hard to spot.

Half and hour later he was pleasantly surprised when he came upon the floodlight in the distance that he'd seen from the cliffs. The outpost was just ahead of him, past a stand of palm trees. Beyond those the tall grass rose up, spreading out to cover the expanse of flatland between him and the outpost. He picked up his pace, leaving the sandy beach behind and breaking into a full run so he could reach the trees before anybody saw him. Dashing into the cover of the tall palms he crouched low, peeking his head around to look.

To his surprise what he saw wasn't an outpost at all, juts a checkpoint. It was little more than some chain link fence on either side of the road that ran parallel to the shore, wrapping around in a circular fashion to encompass a shack on stilts, the one telephone pole with the flood light, what sounded like a gas powered generator, and a shed with a jeep under it. Not what he'd expected at all. There wasn't even a gate or anything to the place, just the open fence. The smoke he'd seen was a campfire that currently had three pirates seated around it on crates and old tires. He could see beer bottles cluttering the ground at their feet and one of them swayed where he sat. What a joke.

Movement on top of the shack caught his eye and Jason hunkered down low to the ground. He waited, holding his breath, still as stone. There it was again. Somebody was on top of the shack and they were far more alert than the guys by the fire. If he had to bet, Jason would put good money that it was a guy with a rifle, long range spotter. Ok so maybe this place wasn't such a joke after all. Time to do some scouting.

Keeping low to the ground, he moved away from the trees and let the tall grass swallow him up. He made sure to move slow enough so that his passage wouldn't cause any discernible break in the waving stalks. It took painstaking work to move along under the watchful gaze of the rifleman, but he did it without breaking a sweat. It was just as easy as it had always been. Tatau or not, Jason didn't feel weak at all. In fact he felt oddly stronger, just like before. He didn't understand it, but he wasn't about to argue against it either.

Now he was close enough to the checkpoint that he could reach out and touch the fence if he wanted. Keeping a low profile he snuck along the perimeter until he reached the opposite side, where the road continued away from the place. As he approached the opening in the fence that allowed the road through he heard snoring. Peeking around the end of the fence he saw a pirate, AK-47 laid across his lap, sleeping with his back against one of the shack's stilts. Ok so maybe this place was a joke after all, he thought, changing his mind.

What was he going to do? Just kill them? Why? He wasn't with the Rakyat anymore so their war with the pirates had nothing to do with him. This wasn't an outpost to be liberated so the Rakyat could swoop in and claim it. He didn't do their dirty work anymore. So then why was he here if not to kill them?

Jason pondered that question long and hard, sitting down with his back to the metal fence post. There really was only one thing he wanted to do now, only one thing left to do really. Kill Vaas. He knew where the pirate lord's compound was. Hell he could swim to it if he had to. He didn't even need guns. He could get those along the way once he was there. All he had to do was get to the North part of the island, then reach the compound, fight or sneak his way in and...wait. No that wasn't going to work. Vaas had known he was coming last time. He still didn't know how the bastard knew it, but until he did, Jason had to assume that the same thing would happen again. So what did that leave him with as far as options?

"Hey asshole are you still sleeping?" One of the pirates shouted.

Jason tensed, ready to bolt. The snoring stuttered and then stopped. A loud yawn and then an annoyed voice shouted back.

"Fuck off."

Laughter from the campfire. Jason relaxed just a tiny bit, but the formerly sleeping pirate was up and moving now from the sounds of it. He could hear footsteps coming closer, just on the other side of the fence. Sliding down so that his shoulders braced against the post, Jason made himself as flat to the ground as he could, but readied himself to move quickly depending on what happened next.

"Motherfuckers always bothering me." The pirate grumbled over the sound of a zipper and then the obvious noise of him taking a piss.

Jason waited till he heard the pirate zipping his fly again, then he made his move. Coming off the ground, he spun around the end of the fence and caught the pirate with a fist to the gut. The impact lifted the still groggy man off his feet and folded him like a wet towel. He hit the ground and puked, holding his stomach. Jason picked up the AK, giving the guy a sympathetic nod.

"Sucks, I know." He said quietly, crouching low so the pirate could see the barrel of the assault rifle as he waved it in his face. "Shh." Jason warned with a finger to his lips, keeping his voice low so as not to alert the others. "Now you may not believe this, but I don't want to kill you. See I've got this crazy idea that you guys might be able to help me with. So play nice and you get to walk away from this."

The pirate's eyes followed the gun barrel, then looking up at Jason, he gave a little nod.

"Ok." Jason took a moment to look around cautiously, then turned his pale green eyes on the pirate. "Now you might freak out about this next part, but fuck with me and I...will...kill you." It was a statement of pure fact and the pirate held no doubts about it as he looked up into the remorseless face of his captor.

Jason hauled the man to his feet with one hand, pulling him up by his hair. The moment the pirate was standing Jason was behind him, his hand fisted into the red shirt the man wore, the other hand leveling the AK at his head. He could feel the guy shaking in fear.

"Keep it together." Jason said softly, trying to sound like everything was going to be alright one moment. "Now walk." He commanded in the next.

He guided the pirate forward, pushing him along until they entered the floodlight's glow. It was then that Jason found another little surprise waiting for him. They had a prisoner, a man younger than himself, but not by much. He was tied to the telephone pole and looked to have been beaten pretty bad. As they moved past him, Jason saw the Tatau on the man's arm. They had a Rakyat warrior.

The Rakyat lifted his head and stared as they approached him. He didn't plead or speak, but there was a spark of hopefulness in his brown eyes. Jason looked away. Not his problem.

"Excuse me!" Jason shouted.

The pirates by the fire tripped over themselves, reaching for their guns and trying to avoid falling into the flames. Up on the shack the rifleman spun and took aim, but he had no shot as Jason kept his hostage between them. In moments he had four very surprised and very agitated pirates with guns trained on him.

Jason really hoped his spur of the moment plan worked, otherwise this was going to be a real shit storm. "Everybody just calm down ok." He said firmly.

"Fuck you man!" The rifleman shouted down from his vantage point.

"Damn it Hector!" One by the fire growled at the hostage. "You always fuck shit up man!"

"This asshole came out of nowhere! I swear!" Hector whined, then went quiet when Jason prodded the back of his head with the AK.

"Watch who you call an asshole...asshole."

One of the pirates by the fire stepped forward a little, but stopped when Jason shook his head. "Ok. Ok, I got you man. Nobody is going to start any trouble. What do you want?" He seemed the most reasonable of the bunch. Maybe the leader?

Jason kept his gaze moving back and forth from the rifleman to the others. very careful to keep his meat shield ready. "Real simple. I'm turning myself in."

The possible leader glanced at the two other pirates behind him, then back to Jason. "Turn yourself in?"

"Yeah. I want you to take me to Vaas." Jason explained.

"To...Vaas?" The pirate asked slowly, surprised and more than a little confused.

"That's what I said. You guys work for him, so take me to him. Trust me he'll want to see me. Hell you guys might get a promotion or whatever."

The apparent leader pointed at Jason before asking, "Why the fuck would Vaas want to see you? Who are you?"

Jason took a calming breath because he seemed to be dealing with the dumbest fucking pirates on the island. "Because I'm Jason Brody." Damn, every time he'd hit an outpost in the past every pirate knew his name like he was some sort of celebrity, now these pricks had no clue. Just his fucking luck he had to get the moron squad.

The Rakyat's eyes lit up in surprise.

"Bullshit." A pirate snorted. "Jason Brody is dead. Vaas killed that white boy months ago man. Tell us another one."

"Your pals are going to get you killed Hector." Jason hissed in a low voice, pressing the barrel of the AK hard against the back of his prisoner's head.

"Don't piss him off!" The meat shield begged.

Up on top of the shack, the rifleman slowly brought his weapon to his shoulder, dropping his head down till he could see through the scope. He began to line up a shot on the white guy, a tricky shot at best considering how Hector was being held. Then he wondered why he gave a shit about Hector? Adjusting his aim so that the bullet would pass right through his fellow pirate and into the man behind him, a much easier shot, the rifleman waited for his chance, smiling a little.

"Look man I'm telling you Jason Brody is dead." The pirate was adamant.

Jason offered a counter argument. "Really? So tell me, just how many times has Vaas said I was dead and been wrong?"

That seemed to get the them thinking, though Jason could tell the rifleman was still intent on his target, namely him.

"Was it the time he let me go from his compound and I fell off that rope bridge? Maybe it was that time he left me to burn in that temple, hmm? Was that it?" Out the corner of his eye he saw the rifleman taking aim and knew there precious little time to make his point. "Wait I know, it was the time he threw me into that hole in the ground with a cinder block tied to my legs hoping I'd drown. No that's not it. Must have been after the helicopter I stole from him crashed and he shot me right? Yeah that has to be it. You guys heard that story right? How he shot me, then buried me in a mass grave, but I just didn't stay dead did I? So tell me again, which version of the story and which story did you hear to make you think Vaas killed me?"

The one who might be the leader was more than doubtful now. He was almost convinced that the man in front of him could in fact be Jason Brody. If that was true, if the white guy holding Hector was really the one called Snow White then if they were able to bring him to Vaas there would be a sweet payday coming their way. That was something he could appreciate.

Jason pressed his luck. "I'm getting bored. Why don't we just start shooting?"

"NO!" Hector screamed, eyes wide.

"Wait!" The would be leader shouted, lifting a hand towards the rifleman. "Wait a fucking minute ok!"

"I've been waiting." Jason said calmly, when in fact every part of him was screaming to move...NOW!

The rifleman saw his chance and took it.

Everything seemed to happen in the blink of an eye to the Rakyat from where he watched, tied to the pole as he was. The crack of the rifle split the air, but Jason was moving even before the trigger had been pulled. Spinning around his hostage, letting go of the man's shirt so he could reach down to the knife strapped to the pirate's hip. With a flick of his hand he sent the blade into the rifleman's face. He wasn't looking at the shooter though, instead Jason was focused on the other three pirates. They might as well have been moving in slow motion, going for their weapons in a hopeless attempt to take him down. Bringing the AK to bear he mowed them down with a smooth arc of his arm. They never had a chance to even get a shot off. One of them tumbling into the fire where he soon began to sizzle and pop.

Hector watched, transfixed in awe at just how easy the man had taken out the others. The rifleman's body hit the ground with a bone snapping thud, followed closely by his rifle. Blinking he turned to look at the man who had taken him hostage, the one claiming to be the infamous Jason Brody, Snow White himself.

"Tough break." Jason said, flicking his gaze down then back up.

"W-what?" Hector asked, but his voice seemed so very small and then everything went dark. He slumped to the ground, the rifleman having put a round straight through his heart while taking his ill fated shot.

The Rakyat released the breath he'd been holding, dumbfounded. In the span of seconds, no, not even seconds, they were all dead. He could not believe it. The man left standing had to be Jason Brody, there could be no doubt after what he'd just seen.

Jason moved over to the fire and pulled the body out so that any ammo or explosives the man might have on him didn't go off. He kicked some dirt on the guy to put him out and then drug the other bodies off the road. Jason then set to the work of searching them, taking anything he felt useful. The AK had done the trick, but it wasn't to his liking. Too loud and clunky. He found two pistols that he was very interested in though, holsters too. Those he set aside, along with any ammo for them he came across. One of the pirates had a machete strapped to his back and that he took happily.

After he was done with the bodies he moved towards the shack, climbing the crude ladder before entering it. Inside he found a few suitcases that belonged to some unfortunate people who'd been taken by the pirates at some point. He found lots of women's things and was starting to think the shack was going to be a bust when at last he found a man's suitcase. Guy must have been an outdoor type. Jason found several pairs of cargo pants and some high end hiking boots.

"Come on lady luck cause I really do need a new pair of shoes." Jason pleaded as he tried them on. "Yes!" They fit, though looking at his other foot and how filthy it was with mud and grime he decided he'd wash up before he wore the boots. Didn't want to ruin them, they might have to last him a long time after all.

He put everything back in the suitcase and then dropped it out of the shack to the ground below. Back inside he took another look around. An idea struck him and he threw a few more suitcases outside. Most of them were women's so he figured Rika might be able to make some use of the items inside. Couldn't hurt right? After all the girl was letting him stay at her place, might as well try to repay her somehow. Done with that he moved past the stack of luggage that remained, but there wasn't much left to look at in the little shack. A dirty mattress, more beer bottles, random bullets, none of which matched the pistols, and of course all manner of drug paraphernalia. It was basically little more than a tiny drug den.

Standing there looking at what was left of the drugs he thought back on his past. On the times he and Oliver would get high, drunk, or both. It had just been no big deal. Just go with the flow. Be part of the scene, one of the cool people. Party hard and all that. Then came this island and everything had changed. How much of his mind had his time with the Rakyat twisted? How much of him was still gone, damaged beyond repair? How many years before coming here had he been doing the same thing to himself? What sort of a person had he been and for how long? So many years wasted and for what? What did he have to show for any of it? Too many questions and way too many hard truths he just couldn't deal with right now. One thing was pretty clear though. If Citra hadn't fucked him over he would have fucked himself over sooner or later.

Never again, he swore to himself. Nothing that messed with his mind, nothing that took him out of where he was and what was going on. From now on he would never allow anything to fry his brain, never again. He wanted to always be in control of his actions, his thoughts, so that nothing like that night at the temple could ever happen again.

At least not how he thought he remembered it happening. God why were his memories so messed up? Vaas should be dead. Buck was dead, but he kept seeing the bastard. Lisa couldn't be dead, he just wouldn't have done that, but then why was he seeing her too? What did it all mean? Hoyt was dead wasn't he? Jason was pretty sure of that, looking at his missing finger lent a lot of credence to the idea of it any way. His head was starting to hurt trying to make sense of everything so he just let it slide for now. He had other things to do right now anyway.

Climbing down from the shack he moved to the rifleman's body and checked it over. He found a radio tucked into the man's belt. With a flick of his thumb he turned it on and heard all sorts of chatter from the pirates all over the island. Now this could really come in handy he thought. Switching it off to save the battery he moved away from the body. He was tempted to take the rifle, but he wasn't very good at long shots. He'd found that out the hard way when he'd saved Oliver. Jesus how many times had he missed that day? It was a wonder Oliver even survived.

Then he went and fucked everything up by choosing Citra.

Shoving the bile of guilt down into the pit of his soul, Jason turned towards the generator chugging along not too far from the floodlight and its pole. Once he turned it off the light faded slowly, draining the last of the power and then it went dark. Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the night, Jason stood still, listening to the sound of the waves far off in the distance. As he did he picked up on the other sounds of nature that were building a presence back into the world. Insects buzzing unseen, a lone yelp of a dog out in the brush, and the soft whooshing sound of the plants as the wind moved them. The world fell into focus again, back to the muted tones the moon overhead allowed to exist and Jason got to work. He began by piling the suitcases into the dull red jeep under the shed. The weapons and ammo he stuffed into an old duffle bag he found crumpled on the floorboard behind the driver's seat.

"Hey." The Rakyat called out to him, though hesitantly.

Pointedly ignoring him, Jason searched around under the shed and came up with two five gallon jugs of gasoline. These too went into the back of the jeep, secured in place with a bit of rope. Moving to the driver's side again he slid behind the wheel and sure enough the key was right there in the ignition. The thing started right up on the first try. Sounded a bit rough, but seemed good enough to him so he shut it off and sat thinking.

The warrior tried again, this time a bit louder. "Hey. Untie me."

Sighing, Jason stepped away from the jeep and moved towards the pole and the bound Rakyat. Only he wasn't going to untie him, rather her went back to the generator and began tracing the wires from it with his hands. He followed them to the pole and then stood reaching up with his hands as high as he could. Once that was done he stepped back and guessed that if he cut the wires as high up the pole as he could, then he'd have about 18 feet or so to work with. Turning back to the jeep he reached in and pulled the machete out. It had a thick blade, heavy, but poorly kept, and the handle was cracked down one side. It would do for now. He headed back to the pole and moved around behind the Rakyat before chopping the wires off as high as he could. Flinging the machete into the ground, he began to coil the wires around his elbow and open hand, forming a loop as he worked his way back towards the generator.

"Come on brother you can't mean to leave me like this."

Dropping the coiled wires he spun to face the Rakyat with anger twisting his features. "I am not your brother." He snapped.

The warrior didn't understand at first, but soon he began to. "You're mad right? About what Citra did."

Talk about the mother of all no shit statements. Jason stared at the Rakyat so hard the man thought he was going to burn holes through him.

Nodding to himself the warrior looked down. "Yeah guess that was dumb. I'd be angry too." Twisting his head to look at Jason. "Wasn't right what she did to you, not by me anyway and not just me."

Crouching down Jason took hold of the generator's sides and lifted it up easily. It was a 7 horsepower model that weighed a little over a hundred pounds on an empty tank. It felt to have about half of its three gallon tank left as he walked over and nestled it carefully in the back of the jeep with the rest of his acquired goodies.

The warrior watched how effortlessly Jason went about his task, then thought over how swiftly the pirates had fallen before him, and he marveled at it. Could this man, this warrior truly have been a hostage of the traitor Vaas? How could a man change so much in so short a time? Surely Citra had been right to say he was the one the tribe had been waiting for. Which made it all the more confusing to him that she had done what she had.

"I don't know why she did it brother." He offered.

Jason stormed towards him, his eyes blazing with anger. Along the way he snatched the machete from where it stood impaled in the earth. He pressed the flat of the blade against the Rakyat's chin and forced him to look up, meeting the smaller man's eyes with a sneer.

"Didn't bother any of you enough to stop her did it?"

The warrior swallowed nervously. "Hey brother we didn't have anything to do with it."

"I told you I'm not your brother." Holding his left arm up so the Rakyat could see it. "See that? Take a good look. No Tatau. You understand what that means right?"

The warrior's eyes studied the place where the Tatau should have been, but not a trace of it was to be found. Jason could see the implications of it settling into the Rakyat by the way his eyes took on a look shock.

"Yeah you understand that." Pulling the blade away to let it rest at his side. "I'm not with you guys any more. Don't like it? Blame your damn leader. She's the one who fucked me over, literally fucked me over." Turning back towards the jeep as he spoke.

The warrior was desperate. "Look I wasn't there. The only ones allowed in the temple then were Citra's chosen. Her warriors...the ones with the white. You know what I'm talking about, you've seen them. The ones who she knows will do anything she says." He was almost pleading now. "When the rest of us heard about what happened we didn't understand. Made no sense. If you were the warrior we'd been waiting for then why kill you? Can you tell me why she-"

"Because she's as crazy as her goddamn brother that's why!" Jason barked out, spinning back on the Rakyat, leveling the machete at him accusingly. "Just like all of you. Just fucking crazy. Thing is, me...I'm the craziest of them all because I believed the bullshit. I bought into the whole warrior of destiny crap and thought I was something more than I am. That maybe there was more to what I was doing on this fucking island than just killing and losing myself in the insanity of it all." He looked around, waving the machete in the air. "But there isn't. I'm just a killer who got played by everybody in this hellhole, but most of all I'm a coward. Just a piece of shit coward." The words had just poured out of him, leaving Jason drained. He wobbled on his feet, reaching up with a hand, pressing it against his temple. Then he laughed in a sad sort of way. "Just an asshole who got his friends killed, just fucked it all up and lost everyone I cared about for...for...gah!" He started smacking himself with his open hand over and over.

Watching the tall American falling apart put the warrior on edge. The man was unstable and might do anything right now. There had to be a way he could calm him down, keep him from losing it altogether. "Hey! Listen. Ok look at me. Listen." Struggling against the ropes binding him to the pole so he could twist himself to face Jason head on. "Your friends might not be dead."

That cut through the haze of guilt and misery instantly. Lowering his hand, he scrutinized the Rakyat with interest. "What do you mean?"

"Yeah like I said, they might not be. Not long after Citra had that big to do with you at the temple me and a few others went out with Dennis. Had this big truck with a couple white folk in the back. Dennis said Citra wanted them out of the temple, that she had no more use for them. He sent them on their way with a blade, bit of food and water, not much else. Told them to go West and never come back. Those might have been your friends yeah?"

Instantly the warrior was staring up into Jason's eyes, the edge of the machete at his throat. "Do you know their names? What did they look like? Anything." His voice deep and threatening. "Start talking or I will hurt you."

The warrior didn't need to be asked again. "Their names I can not say. I never spoke to them. One of the men was tall, like you, and wide in the shoulders like you. He had dark hair and wore a white shirt with buttons. The other man was smaller, more my size. Um, blond hair with a hat. He was not right in the head I think, very confusing. The woman was not as tall as the small man, her hair was blonde too and she was very brave. One of the others...ah...he...uh, he..."

Pressing the machete hard enough against the Rakyat's throat to draw blood, Jason all but shouted, "What did he do?"

"He hit her, with his rifle." The warrior spat out in a panic.

"Son of a bitch." Jason fumed.

"Dennis did not like that and he struck him to the ground. Told him that a true warrior would not have done that. He made him say he was sorry."

Making a mental note not to kill Dennis on sight, Jason relaxed ever so slightly. The Rakyat saw this and felt a tiny bit of hope.

"That woman put him back on the ground. She kicked him so hard he may never have sons." Pausing to grin widely at the memory. "That woman is very strong."

"You have no idea." Turning away from the Rakyat he needed to think. From everything the man had told him that had to be Daisy, Keith, and Oliver. Without looking back he asked, "What about another woman? Dark hair. About as tall as the blonde...and a young man, shorter than me, but very similar." He tried not to get his hopes up, but he couldn't help it. "My little brother so...he looks a lot like me."

"No." The warrior would not lie. "Only the three. Though it could be others were taken from the temple or are still there. Dennis said only that Citra had no more use for the ones with us."

"So you don't know anything else?" He wanted the Rakyat to suddenly tell him they were all alive and well. "Anything at all?"

Picking up on the pain in the tall man's voice, the warrior could only offer him a small glimmer of hope. "I know only what I have told you, but the ones we let go that day, your friends. They might know more. Maybe where the others are, but I can not say."

Jason nodded a few times, absorbing everything he'd just heard. He knew now that some of his friends were alive, that there might even be a chance all of them were. Riley and Liza...they might still be out there. There was still a chance for him to set things right. To fix the monumental fuck up he'd made. Part of him knew he was hoping against all the odds in the world, but if there was even the slightest chance of it, then he was going to grab it with both hands.

"Alright then." He turned back and closed the distance to the Rakyat quickly. With one slash of the machete he freed him.

The warrior fell to his knees, leaning back against the pole with a relieved sigh. He'd been there for two days with very little food or water and his body felt like one throbbing bruise. Looking up at Jason he blew out a long breath. "Thank you."

"What's your name?"

"I am Rua." Extending his hand up in greeting. Jason grasped the hand, drawing him to his feet. "Thank you again Jason Brody."

Pulling him close, Jason looked down at him. "Don't thank me yet Rua. If I find out that you lied to me I will hunt you down and break every bone in your body." The look in his eyes left no doubt that he meant it.

Rua felt himself begin to sweat, but he faced the larger man without backing down. "It is no lie. My life is yours if it is."

"Ok." Letting go of the his hand, Jason stepped back a bit. "So where did you drop them off? The more I know the better chance I'll have of finding them."

Thinking back on that day, Rua felt he was pretty sure he could give a reasonable answer to that. "From the temple you take the small slope up, then you reach a road that goes East to West. It was that road we traveled, going West until we were at the edge of the tribal lands. There has been much fighting and the edges of our lands are always changing though."

"Right." Well that wasn't much help actually Jason thought.

Assuming his friends had been thrown out of the temple around the same time Citra had tried to kill him then it'd been roughly a month. A whole month on Rook Island was a month too damn long. Anything could have happened to them by now. Fuck!

"Dennis told them to go West, that's what you said. Go West."

Rua nodded. "He warned them they would be killed if they were caught in tribal lands. He gave the woman the blade, their food and water too. He said she was the strongest of the three. That without her the men would not make it. I believe that if only one of them still lives, it will be her." There was definitely an air of respect in Rua when he spoke of the woman.

"West..." Trailing off as his thoughts began to turn things over. A whole month to head West, but with limited supplies, so where would they go? Where would Daisy lead Keith and Oliver? Looking West he felt like he had a pretty damn good idea about where they might be. If they made it that far that is.

"Good luck Rua." Jason turned, heading for the jeep.

"Wait! What should I tell the others, the rest of the tribe?" Rua questioned, taking a few steps after him.

Jason slid into the driver's seat, cutting a side long look over at the Rakyat. "Nothing. The tribe and I are done."

The jeep's engine fired up and Jason drove it smoothly out from under the shed, then gunned it down the road. Rua watched the vehicle until it shrank from sight, then turned in the opposite direction and began to jog away from the now quiet checkpoint. He had been saved by the very man who could have lead the Rakyat, a warrior of great power and skill. Citra had made a very poor choice to have lost such a man as Jason Brody. Rua wondered about what other choices she had made and if they too had been just as poor. When he returned to his tribe he would speak with those he knew felt as he did and see what they thought, but he would not tell any of the Rakyat who wore white of what he knew. Jason Brody lived and even without the Tatau he was fearsome.

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Rika sat at the table in her home, hands in her lap, unsure of what to do. Jason Brody had been gone for a very long time now. The sun had set and the moon was high in the sky, but still he did not return. She cursed herself again for whatever she had said or done to upset him so. Then she cursed him again as well for being such a pig brain to just storm off like that. Who does that anyway? Just dashes out and vanishes after being allowed in somebody's home. He had no manners. He was careless. A simple minded man-child that is what he was. If Rohana had not told her to watch over him she would not even care.

Reaching out one small hand, she traced the edge of the empty bowl sitting in the middle of the table. Her mother would have seen that it had fruit in it, but she wasn't here anymore. Rika pulled the bowl to her chest and clutched it, leaning her head over it, eyes squeezed tight so the tears couldn't escape. Her mother had been strong, beautiful, and so kind. Her mother would have known what to do. Then again her mother would have just told her father to do something about it.

A little laugh snuck it's way past Rika's grief and before she knew it she could just imagine her mother giving her father his orders. Go out there and find that stupid Jason Brody and drag him back here so he can explain himself.

Looking down at the bowl Rika was absolutely sure that was what her mother would have done. While her father would have pretended that he didn't want to, that he had more important things to do, then he would have given in. Just like he always did where her mother was concerned. He'd grab his bow, sling his quiver over his shoulder and ruffle her hair, Rika's hair, before going out to do whatever his wife asked of him. After all, she was his world long before Rika had come along. He loved her. He...had loved her.

Carefully setting the bowl down and pushing it back towards the center of the table, Rika lay her head on her crossed arms and looked at the door.

"Jason Brody you are a pig brain." She mumbled.

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The jeep sped down the road, kicking up dirt in the sharper turns. Behind the wheel, Jason was flooded with so many thoughts. Like, what if all of his friends were alive and Riley too? What if it was just like with Vaas? Maybe he had the wrong memories, had seen things mixed up, or even just remembered them incorrectly. Rohana had told him the things the Rakyat had him eating and drinking, even the medicines he'd learned to make from Dennis, everything was meant to mess with a person's mind. Make them see things that weren't there or experience stuff that just wasn't real. So wasn't it possible that he hadn't killed Liza? She could be out there somewhere with Riley and the others, just waiting for him to find them. Just maybe he could get a do over, a second chance to make the right choice this time.

 _"Jason Brody...the eternal optimist."_ Buck held his hands in the air as if framing some huge sign. _"I can see it all now. Your name in lights, star of the show as it were. A tale of a wandering shit for brains. Eager to ignore the warnings of his own damn head and instead throw himself into the pits of Do Not Give a Shit and I Don't Care."_

Jason's jaw clenched so hard a vein in his temple started to throb.

 _"Also starring Jason Brody the idiot, Jason Brody the killer, and our all time favorite, Jason Brody the blissfully ignorant of his own failings and pretends everything is going to be alright no matter what."_ Leaning back in the jeep's passenger seat, Buck nodded with a half grin. _"I'd watch the hell outta that my boy. To be fair though, it's not like I have a choice, know what I mean?"_

"Shut up." Jason ordered.

Assuming a cringing pose, leaning away from Jason as far as he could. _"Oh yes sir Mr Brody. Whatever you say Mr Brody. HA HA HA!"_ Then relaxing back into the seat with not a care in the world.

"God I hate you."

 _"Self loathing goes hand in hand with denial at times they say."_

"I can still hate you." Jason countered.

 _"True enough, but since I am part of you that only goes to prove my point now doesn't it?"_ Buck quantified with logic.

"I still don't understand why it's you and not just, well just me sitting over there. I mean if my mind is going to bug the shit out of me over things then why you?" Jason asked almost conversationally, if not laced with barely muted contempt.

Buck shrugged, crossing his arms behind his head, seeming to enjoy the ride. _"Who knows my boy. Could be that talking to yourself, literally to yourself mind you, isn't a very good idea and somewhere inside that peach pit you call a brain, it knows that."_

"Maybe I just wanted somebody I could hate."

 _"Never thought of that."_ Buck mused, smacking his lips a few times as if tasting the idea. _"Would make our little back and forth a bit more realistic too wouldn't it? Facing up to things pointed out by a doppelganger could be a tad harder than when a fella like me does it."_

"So a raging asshole is better at this stuff than I am, that's what you're saying?" Cutting a look over at the phantom Buck that he knew wasn't real, yet he was still talking to all the same.

 _"Never said you weren't a raging asshole Jason, just that I want to help you is all."_

Shaking his head as he took a rather sharp turn in the jeep, never letting up on the gas, Jason posed another question. "Yeah about that. Why do you want to help me anyway? You and I didn't exactly get along, well the real you I mean."

 _"Believe it or not I've been pondering that very same thing."_ Buck admited.

"Wait, just wait." Jason pulled the jeep to a stop, threw it in neutral, then turned to face his not real passenger. "Are you telling me that you can think for yourself, like...without me doing the thinking? How the fuck is that even possible?"

Buck turned his head lazily to stare at him, pursing his lips in thought. _"Well you're a bright boy Jason...at times that is. Put some of that higher education you got back in the states to work and you tell me."_

This was nuts, completely nuts Jason thought. "The only way that's possible is if I have like, well like multiple personalities or something. A fracture in my psyche that allows, um...that allows...shit! I know this."

 _"A fracture within your dominant or conscious self, the highest level of cognitive reasoning, the persona that those outside of you know of as you. This fracture can at times result in temporary manifestations of desires, thoughts, even urges that are contrary to the dominant self. Often attributed to the consumption of drugs or alcohol taken in dosages higher than what is healthy to the body. Stress brought on by pain or intense emotional or physical trauma can also manifest such a fracture and it's resulting effects."_ Buck blinked, looking at Jason in surprise. _"I sound like a bloody professor."_

"No shit. What the fuck?"

Buck scratched his bearded chin. _"Near as I can figure it, you're nuts. Yes indeed and you will continue to get worse until you get your shit together."_

Slapping a hand to the steering wheel, Jason was fed up. "Ok what the hell does that mean? You keep saying I need to get my shit together, but you don't tell me how or what I need to do. Either make some fucking sense or leave me the hell alone."

Buck affected a hurt expression. _"Jason I don't know exactly what you need to do. If I did I'd tell you straight up I would. Thing is, I'm part of you. Get it? See if I knew what to do then you'd know what to do, eh? Follow now?"_ Wagging a finger at Jason. _"Though I know when you're doing something stupid, I can tell you that."_ Pointing behind the jeep and into the distance. _"Back there Jason, that was really fucking stupid. Take you to Vaas? Really? You have a bloody death wish? Cause I don't and since I'm locked in that head of yours I can tell you that I don't want to go quietly into the good night just yet. So suck it up and stop trying to shit on yourself."_ Crossing his arms over his chest, Buck pouted. _"Problem with you is that you've got your head so far up your ass I don't have to worry about you shitting on anything now do I?"_

Slumping in his seat, Jason ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Goddamn it!"

 _"Look I'm not against you, not in the slightest. If anything I want you to get better so I don't pop up anymore."_ Rubbing the bridge of his nose with a finger, Buck frowned. _"Not as if I enjoy the company."_

"Feeling's mutual asshole." Jason was fast to point out.

 _"Not what I meant my boy."_

That didn't sound good. "What did you mean?"

 _"Jason you think I like spending time with your dead girlfriend?"_

"She's not my girlfriend anymore and she's not dead." Jason was adamant about it.

 _"Well excuse me then. Cause last time I checked there was a bloody annoying sheila running around in that skull of yours. If she's not crying she's lecturing and I'll tell you this for free it gets damn tiresome. Least you're out here and she's only bothered you the one time. So have a heart for your old pal Buck, cause I have to put up with her way more than you."_ Shaking himself as if to be rid of a chill.

This new revelation had Jason feeling sick. "Bullshit. You...She isn't...You guys don't talk...That's crazy."

 _"No you're crazy. We've already established that. Keep up Jason."_ Buck rolled his eyes. _"Where do you think I go, hmm? Think that I cease to be when I'm not out here chatting you up? How do you think I know about the checkpoint and your stupid plan to turn yourself in? How can I know what you're thinking?"_ Staring at Jason incredulously before turning away in a huff. _"Jesus Christ she's right. You really don't listen do you?"_

"You know what. Fuck this." Throwing the jeep into gear, Jason throttled up and soon they were well underway again.

 _"Fuck this? Well isn't that a mature way to deal with things."_ Buck taunted. _"What's that Mr Buck? Oh I'm losing my shit am I? Killed my one time girl did I? Tried to fuck my way into running a tribe of ball tripping cutthroats did I? Bent my friends over the fire and reamed'em good so I could get me a bit more of that sweet island pussy did I? Well that's all fine and good Mr Buck, but you know what...fuck this."_ Clapping his hands slowly. _"Wonderful Jason, you got this well in hand my boy. Well in hand."_ Sarcasm dripping from every word.

Jason was determined not to let the smug bastard win. "Yes I do, because I know where my friends went and I'm going to find them. Then I'm going to find out where Riley and Liza are and I'm going to get them off this island finally." Shifting gears as he spoke. "This time I won't make the wrong choice."

 _"Fine then. Guess I'll be off."_

Looking at the passenger seat, Jason saw no trace of Buck. Though his voice did linger a bit longer.

 _"Hey Jason...think on this while you're at it. You know I'm dead, sure of it and all that. No doubt in your mind the real Buck is dead in his place over by Badtown. Why don't you go see for yourself? Head on over there and take a gander down in the basement. Just to, you know, be sure. Cause if I'm dead, but you still get to have lovely little talks with me, then what does that say about Liza, eh? Ever ask yourself why you don't see any of the others? Maybe it's only the dead ones that can chat with you, eh? Who knows...you let this drag on long enough and maybe even your dear brother Grant will stop by. Unless of course you want to pretend he's not dead too. Think about it Jason...think...about...it..."_

That was not something he wanted to think about, not at all. However the voice had planted something inside him now, a question that he'd never considered and now felt an almost overpowering urge to confirm. If he went to Badtown, to Buck's place, would there be remains inside it? There had to be right? He'd gotten Keith out of there. He'd given the knife to Citra. The same knife she'd used to stab him. Only, when he remembered killing Vaas he was using the same knife and everything he'd learned since waking up in Rohana's shack told him that Vaas was alive so did that mean Citra still had the knife or did Buck?

His head was pounding now, the pain so intense that he lost sight of the road and the jeep spun out. It was all he could do to keep it from tipping over before he got it under control enough to bring it to a stop on the shoulder of the road.

Citra had used that knife to stab him in the temple. He had the scar to prove that and the story about those fishermen finding him in the water not far from the temple and the cliffs. So she had to have the knife, which meant he never gave it to Buck right? No he had given it to Buck, for Keith, but then the bastard lied to him and tried to keep them both, but...he killed Buck with the knife. Then took it to Citra. That was it wasn't it? That's how it happened right?

Why should this memory be any less fucked up than the others though? Damn this was confusing. He needed some answers before he really did lose his mind. Pulling the jeep back onto the road he tried to gather his thoughts. Only it was like trying to catch butterflies with a shotgun. It was messy and never gave him what he really wanted.

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The sound of a vehicle outside brought Rika from a fitful sleep. Lifting her head from the table she stretched, then looked around as if she'd see her bothersome house guest siting across from her. No such luck. The place was dark, the lone candle having burned itself out. She must have been sleeping for a few hours at least she thought.

"Pig brain." Said under her breath at not finding Jason there.

Something had woken her up though. Standing she went to the door, but paused when she heard two heavy thumps on the porch outside. Curiosity got the better of her and she pulled the door open barely a crack, peeking out, but ready to slam and lock it if she had to.

The first thing she took note of were the items on the porch, more specifically the suitcase and duffle bag. Those must have been what made the noise, but where had they come from? Then splashing drew her attention to the little pond not too far away from the house. She could clearly see Jason crouched at the water's edge by the light of the moon.

Throwing the door open she stepped out. "Jason Brody?" Calling out to him. What was he doing she wondered?

When he didn't answer she stepped down from the porch, her bare feet moving her closer to him. "Where did you go?"

When she got closer she saw that he was washing his hands in the water. He was in fact furiously sliding his hands over each other as he went about it. Scrubbing away at his skin in a way that was discomforting to her.

"Jason Brody...are you ok?" She asked tentatively.

He stopped then, hands still in the water, but he didn't turn to look at her. "Go back inside." His voice low.

Rika's cheeks flushed with anger. How dare he tell her to do anything. This was her home, hers! "No I will not. Jason Brody you tell me where you have been. Rohana told me to look after you and-"

He spun on her, advancing so fast that she began back peddling before she knew it.

"No what she did was hand me off to you like I'm some sort of charity case and I'm not. I can take care of myself. I don't need a kid looking after me." Shoving her shoulder with one wet hand so hard she fell.

Looking up at him Rika felt her breath catch. There was blood splashed across his chest and running up his arms. Overlooking that he'd shoved her down she dared to ask, "What happened to you?" Her voice shaking as much as she was starting to.

Looking down at himself, Jason lifted his arms, turning them this way and that. "Oh this?" As if blood was no big deal to him, which truthfully it wasn't by now. "It's not mine. Must have gotten it on me while I was checking the bodies. I was trying to wash it off when you started to bother me." Turning away from her, he headed back towards the pond. "Now go back inside."

"No." Defiant despite her current position on the ground.

Jason stopped, his back rigid, then turned on her slowly. "Girl I am not in the mood right now. I have a lot on my mind and this is not the time to press your luck."

Getting to her feet she glared at him. "This is my home Jason Brody! You don't get to tell me what to do here."

"That so?" He asked, facing her squarely.

"That is so yes." Rika saw that same look in his eyes that had been there before he left. That look of an animal in a trap, like he wanted to chew his own arm off...or hers.

He was on her before she could even register that he'd moved. A hand like iron wrapping around her upper arm, then lifting her off her feet so that she dangled before him. The fingers of his other hand dug into the thick hair of her ponytail and yanked her head back hard enough to bring tears to her eyes.

"You're hurting me!" She managed to say through the pain. Her arm felt like he was going to pull it off, the same with her hair.

"That's what I do!" He shouted at her. "I hurt people!" His voice dropped lower as he brought the slender girl face to face with him. "Everybody near me gets hurt and you are no exception." She weighed next to nothing and he knew she was helpless in his grasp. There was that same feeling, the one that came around when he killed somebody, that feeling of power, of winning.

"St...stop..p..p..please..." Tears began running down her cheeks freely, her slender body held aloft so that she could do nothing. Try as she might with her free hand she couldn't pry his fingers from her hair.

As soon as it had begun it ended. Jason dropped her, stumbling back with a look of confused horror on his face. Rika plopped to the ground, wincing as her butt hit, and holding her throbbing arm close to her side. The tears kept coming and nothing she did made them stop. She was so good at controlling herself, always so strong, but now she sat quietly crying on the ground. Assaulted by the central figure in all those stories she adored so much.

Jason took a hesitant step towards her. "Hey, I'm...I..."

Rika scooted back from him, her eyes wide with fear, cheeks wet with tears, strands of her long black hair sticking to her face.

Jason didn't know what to do, what he could do. What in the hell had he been thinking? Jesus he really was a monster. Attacking a girl like that, there was no excuse for that. He had to get away from her before he hurt her for real.

"I..shit, I didn't mean...kid I would never hurt you." The words felt hollow even to himself. He'd just hurt her so he was already a liar. Yeah he had to get out of here now.

Rika watched fearfully as he moved past her, giving her a wide berth as he went. She was afraid of him now and with good reason. He could have killed her in a moment and there was nothing she could have done to stop him or even hurt him. What had Rohana been thinking sending him up here with her? That old woman had no idea what sort of man Jason Brody really was. Until just now Rika would never have imagined him doing what he'd done, scaring her like that, but the stories now made even more sense than when he'd left earlier. All those stories told of Snow White's bravery, of his prowess in battle, and how he boldly slew the enemies of the people in his war against the evils that plagued the islands. Only those were just stories that glossed over the real truth. Jason Brody was a very scary man who did very scary things and he was dangerous, more dangerous than any man she could think of.

So she watched him as he walked towards her house, then up onto the porch. He wobbled on his feet, leaning against the frame of the open door for support. Something was wrong. Without warning he collapsed into the house. Rika was on her feet before she knew it, favoring her arm as she quickly entered the house and knelt down beside the large man.

He was face down on the floor and not moving. Was he injured, had something happened to him? All the fear she'd only just been feeling was washed away by concern for the man laying before her. Despite what he'd just done to her she was truly worried now. He'd seemed so powerful a second ago, so fearsome, and now he looked so vulnerable. Holding her hair back, she leaned down and placed her ear to his back. He was burning hot and the feel of her cheek against his skin was distracting for some reason. After a few seconds she could hear his heart beating. It seemed steady, but for how long?

Sitting up she looked around as if something that would help was going to jump off the shelves of preserves and dried plants. What could she do? She wasn't a healer like Rohana.

"Rohana!" She gasped.

Rika was on her feet again and set about pulling Jason's legs inside the house. It took everything she had, throbbing arm and all, just to get his feet in so she could pull the door shut on her way out. She began to run, intent on making it to Rohana's shack as soon as possible. She'd bring the old healer back with her and then...

No that won't work, she thought to herself angrily. Even as fast as she could run it would take her over an hour to get to the shack, but getting Rohana back here would be impossible. The old woman hadn't made the trek up here for months now. She was just too frail to do it, despite how tenacious the old healer could be. But Rika needed her here, she just had to get her here so Rohana could fix Jason Brody.

Stomping in frustration, she puffed her cheeks out with a groan. Then here eyes fell onto something that hadn't been there before. Sitting just beside her house was something that she could use to get Rohana here and fast. If she didn't kill herself in the process that was. The wind blew and all the little chimes began to sing out their haunting melodies. Moments later the serenity was broken by the growl of an engine.


	12. House call

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Sorry for the delay. Regular updates will return from now on. Thank you for your patience.

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Throbbing pain greeted him as he swam up from the depths of unconsciousness. It was like he was burning up, his head felt swollen and seemed to pulse in time with his heart beat. A steady jackhammer that was trying to kill him kept digging into the base of his skull. He groaned and instantly regretted that. The pain intensified tenfold.

"I told you he'd live." an irate old woman's voice sounded close by.

Jason opened his eyes and winced at the light. The room was full of warm sunlight that found its way in through the open windows and door. The gentle tinkling sound of the wind chimes reached him, but rather than sooth him as they had before, now they sounded like tiny little car crashes to his ears. Frowning he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

His mouth felt like it was full of dry cotton. "...ugh...tell me the party was worth it." he asked with an almost pitiful moan.

Rika's brows furrowed curiously where she sat at the table. "What is he talking about?" she asked the only other person in the house.

Across from her, Rohana scoffed, then went back to sipping her drink from the chipped cup held in her gnarled hands. "Foolishness no doubt. Let him be. It will come to him in time."

The young girl gave a nod. Rohana was the healer after all, so she'd trust in her judgment. Not that she had a choice. The old woman could be very stubborn at times. Something they both shared, not that either of them would ever admit it.

Rika couldn't help but fidget in her chair while she watched the man on her floor throw an arm over his face. She could see the grimace of pain that twisted his mouth. After he'd collapsed the previous night she'd gotten to Rohana's as fast as she could. Which meant that for the first time in over a year Rika had been behind the wheel of a vehicle. The dull red jeep she'd found outside her home had been a very welcome surprise. Despite the lessons her father had given her in his old truck before it had finally given out, she'd nearly wrecked several times going down towards the shanty cluster to get Rohana. It hadn't taken her much to convince the healer to gather her things and return with her after she told her Jason Brody had taken ill. Of course the look on the old woman's face when she'd seen the jeep would have sent Rika into fits of laughter had the situation not been so dire.

Well it had seemed dire at the time, but now, looking at the groaning man she could only shake her head with a little frown of concern. Despite how badly he had frightened her she was not happy to see him suffering now. In fact she was conflicted? No, perhaps confused? That sounded a little better, but not by much. Since the stories of Snow White had begun to spread she had wanted to meet the hero they spoke of. However she was finding it difficult to put the miserable man laying on her floor into the shoes of that hero. Then there was how he had treated her. That was very much not the actions of a good man. She had never been touched like that, never hurt by anyone in that way. Her parents had been loving and attentive and even when disciplining her they had never done so in anger. Rika knew she was headstrong, but still she was liked by those who knew her down in the shanty cluster and at the bar there. Nobody even so much as raised their voices to her, but Jason Brody had done that and more. So why didn't she want him gone then? Why had she been so worried about him? Was it just her lingering hero worship or the new found puzzle that the man presented? He was so unlike anybody she had known and she had so many questions for him, not just about the stories as they had spoken of before, but other things. Things like where was he from? What was it like there? What was he like before coming to the islands? Her head was full of things she wanted to know, but was it worth the risk of being around him to find such answers? He scared her even now, in the back of her mind where the memory of his hands on her, lay hidden away. Yes he scared her, but it wasn't like she hadn't been afraid before in her life. So maybe she could over come this fear too. All these thoughts swirled around inside her head as she watched her strange house guest where he lay suffering on her floor.

Meanwhile, across the table, the old healer had been studying Rika over the rim of her cup. She saw the emotions passing over the girl's face, reading them like a book. Since the very first time the girl had seen the American laying in her shack, Rohana had known she was fascinated by him. At first it had just been because of who he was. The famous Snow White, but as the days became weeks the girl's innocent attention had turned into something more. Several times she'd caught Rika staring at Jason as he lay sleeping. The old woman would have needed to be blind to not see the curiosity growing in the girl. Here was a man the likes of which the young girl had never seen, of course she'd be drawn to him. No doubt Rika wasn't even aware of the change in how she looked at him, but to Rohana with her life time of experience it was obvious.

Little Rika was finally starting to grow up. Despite how long Rohana had been waiting for the naive girl to start down the path to adulthood, she had to admit that the girls timing could have been better. Did she really have to up and start while Jason Brody was half through death's door those weeks ago? The spirits could be fickle indeed! On the other hand, despite all the risks of having him here, Rohana had to admit that Rika was most likely safer now than since her parents had died. It had never sat well with the old healer that the girl lived up here alone like she did.

Rohana moved her gaze from her worried young friend to the source of her impromptu house call where he lay not too far from her own feet. "Save your pity girl." she admonished as she set her cup down. "He brought this on himself. He knew better than to run off half witted like he did. It's a wonder he made it back in his condition...Fool boy!" saying the last part far louder than she needed to.

Jason tensed up on the floor, weakly lifting his hand towards the two of them. "Keep it down. Man trying to die here." he croaked.

With her stink eye in full effect, Rohana turned in her chair to face him, leaning down to rest her elbows on her knees so she could better study her patient. "Well on your way too!" she snapped. "Spirits know I didn't wipe your ass and tend your stupid self for this!" Rohana took a twisted delight in how her every word sent him shaking in pain. Served him right she thought to herself.

"I'm dead." Jason muttered. "I died and this is Hell. Rohana is that you?" he asked, halfheartedly attempting a joke.

A foot kicking him in the side was proof enough of her opinion of his little attempt at humor. He let out a grunt. Yep that was her.

"Get up boy. Bad enough you've been stinking up Rika's house with yourself, but its bad manners to just lay around all day." When he made no move to stand she glared down at him, contemplating where to send her next kick.

As if sensing his life may be in danger he forced himself into a sitting position, before pulling his legs under him as he stood with some effort in the end. He took a few steadying breaths before blinking away the last of his lack luster sleep. This wasn't the worst hangover he'd ever had, but it was still pretty bad. Then it all came rushing back to him, everything from the night before. The checkpoint. The pirates. The Rakyat prisoner. Learning that his friends might be alive. All of it. As it did his eyes snapped towards Rika and he felt like a piece of shit. He'd scared her, but worst of all he'd hurt her. He barely knew the girl and she'd given him a place to hide out, opened her home to him, and what did he do? He all but beat the girl up. He was a real bastard.

Jason Brody was looking at her and Rika couldn't meet his gaze. Instead she looked away, letting her eyes fall on the worn surface of the table. It didn't help that she'd been watching the way the muscles of his torso worked as he stood. She couldn't help it, the tall man was just so different from the native men of Rook Island. Rohana had said that he would be weak and in need of rest and plentiful food in order to regain his health, but how could that be? To think the man that now stood towering over her, dominating the space of the room effortlessly was not at his best was shocking.

Jason saw how quickly the girl looked away from him and felt even worse. Yep, she either hated him or was scared of him. Hell she couldn't even stand to look at him now. Good job asshole, he thought angrily. As he stood waiting for the throbbing pain in his skull to ease down to earthquake levels he looked his host over. This was the first time Jason had the chance to really see her. In the shack and on the trip to her place the lighting had been poor and it wasn't as if he'd been in the best state of mind as anyway. Now though the room was bright with golden light and he could take her in with his eyes. She was slender, more legs than anything if he remembered right, since she was sitting down. Long black hair pulled into a high ponytail that left long bangs to frame a face that hadn't quite lost all of its baby fat yet, though she was well on her way to becoming a stunning woman. Her skin was deeply tanned, but not dark like Rohana's by any means. That alone set her apart from the other natives of Rook Island, but when she cast a fleeting look his way it was her eyes that truly divided her from the rest of them. An amber hue so light they seemed to drink in the golden light of the room. When her eyes fell on him it was unsettling. They were so bright in contrast to the rest of her. She had on an old gray flannel shirt that was so big on her it practically covered her like a jacket. It hung open to reveal a light blue shirt. He couldn't see much more since the table was blocking his view. Seeing her now and realizing just how small she was compared to him made what he'd done the night before all the worse to him. He really should get as far away from her as soon as possible before something bad happened to her just like everybody else he came in contact with in the past months. Yeah, better not taint her with his fucked up self.

Rika felt uncertain under his stare. What was he looking at? Was he still mad at her? She'd dared a quick glance his way and his expression had been oddly upset to her. His lips were pressed into a thin line, brows furrowed over his pale green eyes. Could he still be upset about her words from last night? Had she really driven him away for hours only to have him return, blood on his hands and apparently furious with her? Had he not calmed down since then? Surely he wasn't still upset with her even now...was he?

It was Rohana who broke the awkward silence. "Boy you reek of blood and sweat." Reaching to the table she picked something up and then tossed it to him. "Go wash yourself."

Jason snatched the clunky object from the air absently. Something that wasn't lost on either Rika or Rohana. Even in such a sorry state, Jason Brody had fast reflexes.

Looking at what he held, Jason was surprised to see a bar of soap. "Where the hell did you get soap?"

Rohana was ready to throttle him now. "Same place anybody does you damn fool. The store." Giving him the stink eye again. "We do have those you know."

"Oh yeah." He felt stupid now. Of course they had stores. He'd done his own share of shopping in them, mostly for ammunition and information though. Looking around the room he balked. There were two other doors, opposite of each other, and both were closed. Pointing from one to the other he asked, "Which is the bathroom?"

Rika avoided looking at one of the doors, specifically the one that didn't lead to her room, refusing to let her eyes fall on the door that lead to her parents room. "No bathroom." she said matter of factly.

"So then where do I..." he trailed off.

The old healer rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't fall out. "Might try that pond out there. All that water may help, but don't take my word for it boy."

"I have a name ya know." he grumbled.

"So do I." Rika cut in, though the barest hint of a smile twitched the corners of her mouth. She couldn't help but enjoy watching Jason get a taste of his own medicine.

Giving the girl a slight grin he gave up. "I remember Ree-Kaa." he said, stressing her name.

Not to be outdone. "Good Jay-Son Broh-Dee." she mocked, letting a little grin of her own show.

Seeing her mood change, Jason wondered if just maybe things weren't so bad as he'd first thought. No, there just was no way. Turning to the door, Jason shook his head and then swayed with the pain. That hadn't been a good idea. The sound of a chair scraping across the floor got his attention, causing him to turn back into the room even as he braced a hand to the door frame for support. Rohana still sat watching him, her dark eyes taking stock of her patient. Rika on the other hand was on her feet and part way to him, an anxious look in those interesting eyes of hers.

"No worries." waving her off. "I'm good. Not the first time I woke up in a strange house with my head pounding." The grin he flashed this time wasn't as reassuring as he hoped it would be if the girls face was any indication.

Rika looked to Rohana. "He doesn't seem well." Worry clear in her voice.

The old healer snorted. "I never said he was. He's an idiot." With her declaration done, the old woman stood, hands going to the small of her back as she stretched. "Now get to washing boy." Pointedly not using his name and giving him a look that dared him to say something about it.

Taking the hint, Jason turned back to the door and walked carefully outside. The glare of the sun had him shielding his eyes with a lifted hand. He heard the door shut behind him. "Women." he mumbled under his breath.

The wind was nice and he felt a little better now that he was on his feet and moving around. In no time he was at the pond's edge and a moment later was naked as the day he was born, having peeled the old thread bare pants Rohana had loaned him off his person. Soap in hand he waded into the warm water until it was chest high and then sank into it with a sigh.

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Back inside the house.

Rohana stepped away from the door she'd only just closed and folded her hands behind her. "Fool boy." Her annoyance quite plain in her tone. "Running around doing who knows what, then he comes back here and falls over like a newborn. I bet he hasn't eaten a thing since I sent him away." Looking towards Rika she was about to ask her, but caught the girl looking out the window that faced the pond. Without saying another word the old healer walked up and stood beside the young girl. Both of them now staring out the window at Jason's retreating back.

It wasn't long before he began to remove the filthy pants he wore. Rika's breathing hitched.

"Something on your mind?" Rohana asked from right beside her.

The girl all but fainted. Quickly turning away from the window to retake her seat at the table. Her hands reaching out to fiddle with the large empty bowl that sat there. "N-no. Nothing at all."

Rohana to her own credit turned away from the window as well. Not like she hadn't seen everything Jason had to offer anyway while tending to him. Still though, even as old as she was, she had to admit that seeing him up and moving around was an entirely different thing altogether. Chuckling to herself she shuffled back and took a seat closer to Rika this time.

"Nothing to be ashamed of." she offered the reddening girl.

"Who said I was ashamed?" Rika snipped in a quiet voice. "I have nothing to be ashamed of. I just wanted to make sure he didn't fall again or drown himself." Wait now that she thought about it, would he drown out there by himself? Should somebody go out there and help him? Why did the thought of that make her want to hide under the table?

Rohana watched the poor girl turn several shades redder before asking the question she'd meant to earlier. "Rika has that fool boy eaten since coming here?"

Grateful for anything to take her mind off the confusing thoughts running through her head, Rika shook it in the negative. "He did not eat that I know of."

"Drink?"

Again she shook her head. "No."

"No wonder the fool's so out of sorts." Rohana snapped sharply. "I bet he went out and did something very stupid, something that tired him out from the looks of all that blood. No food and no water on top of all that healing he's been doing at my place and its no wonder he's like this. Dehydrated for sure and needing food, lots of it. Not to mention a good kick in the ass!" she added for good measure.

Rika thought, her eyes wandering the shelves of preserves and dried plants around the room. "I have some bananas and apples. Dried fish too...Oh and rice." she added with a lift in her spirits. Feeling that she could be helpful in some small way. Never considering that letting Jason stay in her home was already a huge help in and of itself.

Rohana scratched her chin. "The fruit will do him good for now. Get into his gut faster. Do you have coconuts?"

The girl nodded. "I have three." Pointing them out where they sat on the floor over in the far corner by the bag of rice.

"Good." Standing, Rohana moved towards the long table that served as a counter where it nestled against one of the walls. "Bring the coconuts and a deep bowl. Also something to open them with."

In no time they had the coconuts husked and using a hammer they cracked them open enough to drain the nutrient rich milk into the bowl. Taking this to the table, Rohana eased herself into a chair again with a little sigh. Damn old age!

"Alright now bring the fruit. When the boy comes back in we'll make sure he eats all of this. It should do until he can get some proper food in him."

Rika stood looking at the meager meal and frowned. "Will this be enough? He is big." Having no clue just how poor her choice of words were as the old healer let a mischievous grin spread.

"Oh is he now?" Rohana couldn't help herself. "Saw more out that window than I thought didn't you girl?"

If Rika had been a pot she would have boiled over. Redder than red, she tripped over her words. "No! I didn't...I wasn't...I never..."

The old healer cackled with glee, holding her gut as she did. Rika plopped down at the table and shot daggers from her eyes. "I was not peeking!" she declared. She was just curious, but she'd never ever admit that to Rohana not even on pain of death.

"Don't worry about that, or the food. This will do fine for now." Rohana assured her, reaching over to pat the blushing girls small hand. "I know you Rika. You are a good girl."

"Thank you." Rika said, slightly mollified for now.

"Rika..."

Rohana's tone told her that the old woman was about to talk about something serious. Rika met her long time friend's gaze and waited.

"Will this be a problem? Him being here I mean." Rohana watched the girl closely.

Rika quickly replied, "No. It's fine." Without thinking she rubbed her left arm, the long sleeve of her father's old flannel shirt covering the growing bruise Jason Brody's hand had left there. She had put the shirt on before going to get Rohana, knowing that if her friend saw the results of what had been done there would be no end to her anger.

Since last night, Rika had given those events some thought. She wasn't going to let Jason Brody off the hook, but for now she felt it was best to keep it between just the two of them. He hadn't been in his right mind, at least she didn't think so after she'd replayed the memories over and over. Once things settled down she would be sure to talk to him about it and set some things straight. At least that was her plan.

Watching the young girl, Rohana knew something was amiss, however she couldn't discern what it was. Maybe she was overthinking things, letting her old mind wander too much. Sure the man outside bathing even now had a reputation of being dangerous, but he was only dangerous to bad people. He'd helped her with her troubles with her bastard of a son in law after all. Jason was a good person deep down despite everything he thought of himself. Of course hiding him out here with Rika wasn't the ideal choice, but what else could she do? He needed time to recover, even if he didn't think so. Rohana was sure that it was more than his body that needed to heal, but his very soul. The spirits alone knew why he was still alive, but maybe, just maybe coming here to Rika's was part of their will.

Looking the young girl over, Rohana couldn't help but smile just a little. She'd been the one to help bring Rika into the world all those years ago. It had been her hands that first wrapped the child in a blanket and presented her to the proud parents. Parents whose presence was sorely missed even after more than a year. Rohana wished life had been easier for her young friend, but that was not something any of her tonics and cures could make happen. Rika was a tenacious soul and despite the loss of her parents her smile had never wavered, at least not when she thought others could see her. Rohana knew better however, the girl was a solitary person who kept her most important thoughts to herself and whose best and only friend just happened to be a cranky old healer who lived in a shack down by the beach.

So knowing her as she did, if Rika said it was fine for Jason to be here Rohana relented with a nod. "That's good then. I don't want you to feel like you have to put up with him." Grinning widely, exposing some missing teeth. "Last thing a pretty thing like you needs is a fool of a boy making her life troubled."

Rika giggled just a bit. "If he acts up I'll just threaten to tell you." Having seen how easy it was for Rohana to cower the fearsome Snow White.

The old woman's grin turned positively evil. "You do that."

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Jason scrubbed the soap into his skin and felt the tension easing out of his muscles, while the warm water and the sunlight leeched the stress right away. Dunking his head beneath the water's surface he used the soap to wash it as best he could. Slowly he was feeling better, his headache was now little more than a dull throb every now and then. He felt human again. Well as human as he could considering who he was.

 _"Well it's not my birthday so you must be Christmas."_ came the teasing voice from the pond's edge.

Jason's shoulders sagged, his head following close behind. Without turning around he said dryly, "You know that line was cheesy the first time I heard it and it still is. I mean you don't really think it works do you?"

Looking over his shoulder at the sound of a chuckle, he saw Buck sunning himself on a flat rock, his loose Hawaiian shirt open and exposing his lean frame to the sky. His long jean clad legs were stretched away from him, bare feet almost touching the clear water.

 _"Oh I don't know."_ The lanky man grinned wide. _"I do have a naked man putting on a show for me, eh?"_ Buck chuckled all the more as Jason sank down into the water up to his chin. _"Aww how cute. Never pegged you for the bashful type."_

Knowing just how monumentally weird it was trying to hide himself from the perverted eyes of an imaginary person, Jason never the less refused to stand up in the water now. "I thought you weren't talking to me." he said in irritation.

 _"Fella can change his mind...rather I guess you can that is. You're the one running the show after all. Hmm...me? I'm just along for the ride."_

"Right." Jason wasn't so sure of that. "Because I soooo want you to watch me bathe."

The Aussie's brows waggled playfully. _"Never know what lurks in the back of a person's mind my dear. Not many people are as fortunate as you, having a first hand guide as it were."_

"Uh huh." Less than amused.

 _"Oh I'm not kidding Jason. The things I could tell you about yourself."_ Buck gave a long whistle. _"Turn you right on your ear mate, trust me."_

Frowning, Jason couldn't stop himself from rising to the bait. He just knew this was a bad idea even as the question left his lips. "Like what?" After all, he was pretty sure he knew just how fucked up he was. What could an imaginary prick like Buck tell him that he didn't already know?

Taking the time to gather his thoughts, Buck pursed his lips, then sat upright, Indian style, and looked Jason square in the eye. _"Well why don't we start with that little sheila?"_ Grinning ear to ear.

"Nope. Fuck you." Jason turned away and went back to rinsing the soap out of his hair.

 _"Aw c'mon Jason! Where's your sense of adventure?"_ he teased with a laugh.

"I left it in my other pants." came the deadpan retort.

Buck clicked his tongue at that. _"Right. Course you did."_ Gauging his next words carefully, Buck spoke bluntly. _"So you didn't notice that little mouth of hers, hmm? No course not. Not you. Not Jason Brody, the great and powerful Snow White."_ Chortling as he clapped his hands. _"Aw Jase you can lie to yourself, but not to me. I got a front row seat to all the naughty bits rumbling an a tumbling around in that head of yours. Half of which are really fucked up I might add. Real bugger your ass shit my boy."_

Oh Jason really did not like the sound of that at all. "Sorry, not buying it." Shooting a heated look towards his phantom tormentor.

Ignoring the warning look the naked man shot him, Buck went on. _"See this is how it works. You, well you're the one driving this little psycho road trip of ours see? Me on the other hand, I have a very entertaining seat as it were...as we go along. You have to focus Jase, you know, pay attention to where we're going and all that. Meanwhile I get to look out the window and enjoy the scenery."_

He paused to let that sink in before continuing. _"Scenery like a certain little sheila and that pouty little mouth of hers right? You noticed it my dear. Let us not pretend you're some saint. We're all adults here after all. You know my own tastes so I'm in no place to judge you."_ Winking before he leaned forward and pretended to whisper. _"Psst...Hey Jase. Ya think that little pout could fit around your - "_

Jason tensed like he'd been shot, then spun around to bark out. "You sick fuck!"

Casting a quick look towards the house, Buck waved his hands at Jason. _"Calm down my boy, calm down. Right. We don't want the ladies to hear now do we? Can't have them thinking you're out here having a talk with your cock-a-doodle-do now can we?"_ His shoulders shaking with laughter

Fuming, but getting the point, Jason took a few calming breaths, but his pale green eyes never lost their anger. "Seriously what the hell is wrong with you? She's just a kid." His voice low.

Shrugging, Buck quipped, _"Not saying I find the idea of it appealing. Not my cup of tea as we both know. I'm just pointing out the dirty laundry in your head is all."_

"That is not something I'm into either." Not wanting to even entertain such a thought. "Jesus!" he declared heatedly.

 _"Really?"_ Now Buck brought a hand up to stroke his bearded chin. _"Bertrand Russell once said, and I quote...'To deny our own impulses is to deny the very thing that makes us human.'...Wise words my dear, wise words."_ he said with a flourish of his hands.

Jason shook his head, "Yeah well when Mouse said that in the Matrix he died not too long after so, no thanks." Jason countered.

 _"Right then."_ Buck stood up with a long stretch of his arms. _"I can see I'm not getting anywhere with you my lovely, so I'll be on my merry way."_

Jason made a point to watch Buck this time. He wanted to see just how he kept vanishing on him. Only Buck just stood there on the rock, arms now crossed, bare foot tapping.

 _"Oi, Jason, how about turning around for a sec, eh?"_

Blinking curiously, Jason asked. "Why?"

Scowling, Buck pointed an accusing finger. _"You are one contrite little prick. Do you know that?"_ When Jason just kept staring he relented and explained. _"Turn around you twit so what little sanity you have left isn't run round the loony bin when I just up and vanish."_

Sudden realization hit Jason and he did in fact spin around. "Right sorry." Exactly two seconds later the sheer lunacy of what he'd just done struck him like a ton of bricks. Why the fuck was he taking orders from an imaginary asshole?

"I am such a moron." He sighed to himself and turned to look, but he already knew Buck wouldn't be there.

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Rika was tugging at something under her shirt, trying in vain to adjust herself so she didn't feel so constricted. The day was steadily going from warm to hot and she wasn't looking forward to the humidity she knew was going to be pressing down on everything.

"Better stop with that." Rohana advised evenly.

They were both still seated at the table, waiting for Jason to return from his bath.

Rika was quickly becoming exasperated. "I can't help it. I've been like this since yesterday and it itches!"

"Your own fault. Nobody told you to stay up all night worrying about that over grown man child." the old woman snorted, but her eyes were soft with understanding.

"I do not like it." Rika whined, trying her best to get at a particularly annoying itch that was somewhere just under her armpit.

Rohana offered the girl a sympathetic nod. "I know. I wish you didn't have to endure such a thing, but with your situation it is the best we can do for now. In time it won't be necessary."

"Sometimes it makes it hard to breathe when it is very hot out." she complained, giving up on ever getting at that itch. Instead she let her head fall to the table with a soft thud, defeated.

Rohana was about to say something, but the door opened and Jason made his way in. Both of them looked up to see him now clean and dressed in new clothes. Needless to say the effect was astounding. Gone was the blood and dirt crusted wild man who had been clad in skin tight pants and nothing else. Now Jason stood before them wearing a dark blue tank top, gray cargo pants, and heavy duty hiking boots of a rich brown leather. The tank top formed to his upper body, accenting every muscle as he moved, while his broad shoulders and thick arms were highlighted by the lack of sleeves. He was still drying his hair with a pink polo shirt he'd found in the suitcase on the porch. Jason was not going to wear a damn pink shirt so he might as well use it as a towel. When he was sure he couldn't get his dark brown hair any dryer he tossed the shirt back out onto the porch, leaving the door open to let in the breeze, and took a seat at the table with the other two.

"Better?" he asked as he ran a hand through his thick hair to brush it as best he could. The effect was a haphazard wonderland of soft looking waves and rebellious bangs hanging just over his eyes, that along with the dark growth of stubble contouring his chin and jaw line caused a funny tickle to spring to life in Rika's belly.

"Uh huh." the girl said softly, unaware of herself.

Rohana cleared her throat a little too loudly and gestured at the food on the table. "Now that you don't smell like a dead goat you can eat."

As if magically awakened by her words, Jason's stomach let out a fearsome growl of hunger. The sound broke Rika free of the spell she didn't even know she'd been under and she covered her mouth with a hand to stifle a laugh. Even Rohana smiled, eyes twinkling.

Jason sighed, but he was smiling too. "Eat. Now that I can do."

Without another word he began to stuff his face. As he ate they made plans for the day. Rohana told them she needed to get back to her shack, saying she had people coming to see her for her healing skills. She then told them to stock up on some real food seeing as how Jason was still recovering and would need to eat as much as he could to recover from being bed ridden for roughly a month. Looking him over, Rika just could not believe that the man was going to be putting on even more muscle, but if what Rohana was saying was true he was actually smaller than when he'd first been brought to her for healing.

Jason finished the bowl of coconut milk and reached for an apple. He was a surprisingly neat eater, much to their surprise. "I can't just go walking into a general goods store. I mean even if people think I'm dead." He chose not to tell them about the Rakyat warrior named Rua from the check point. "They are looking for a white guy after all and I do fit the bill."

"True." Rohana stroked her chin with a finger as she thought.

"We could fish and hunt." Rika offered.

Jason arched a single brow, looking at the slender girl in surprise. "You can hunt?"

She took offense to his tone, which seemed to say he didn't think she could. "My father was a great hunter and he taught me everything he knew." she said proudly.

Jason caught how she said 'was' rather than 'is' and not for the first time he wondered just where the girl's parents were. Something told him this wasn't a subject he should breach right now. Instead he put it to the back of his mind, determined to touch on it later.

Biting into the apple he chewed as he thought. Getting their own food would be safer. He was used to surviving off the land after all at this point. There were very few animals on the island or in the water that he hadn't killed, skinned, and yes most times eaten by now. Still though, looking at the slender girl sitting across from him he was hard pressed to imagine her out in the jungle taking down game. Swallowing he asked, "So do you use a gun?"

Rika scoffed. "No real hunter uses a gun." Her eyes brightened at the thought of going hunting again, something she hadn't done in weeks. "A real hunter uses a bow or a spear."

"A bow huh?" Jason asked with a smirk.

"Yes." Rika affirmed, squaring herself up in her chair.

"I'm pretty damn good with a bow." Jason bragged, taking another bite of apple. "Had lots of practice since I got here."

Rohana rolled her eyes at the brash American. He really had no idea just how good a hunter Rika's father had been, or how well the girl had taken after him. Jason didn't know it, but he was walking himself right into trouble. Glancing at her young friend, she could see the fires of competition already blazing in her eyes.

"That is cute Jason Brody." Rika said sweetly. "I have been hunting since I was old enough to walk so that gives me fourteen years experience to your barely one." her grin was practically feral.

Narrowing his eyes and gulping down the last bite of apple, Jason asked, "Just how old are you ki-, I mean Rika." catching himself before calling her kid again.

"This year is my fifteenth. Why?" she asked innocently enough, but she was just waiting for him to put his foot in his mouth.

Rohana knew the trap was set now and that Jason was just foolish enough to fall into it.

Leaning back, Jason folded his hands behind his head smugly. "So young." He sighed, playing the part of the bored adult just to get a rise out of the girl. "Well I guess I could give you some pointers if you really wanted me to."

Foolish boy, Rohana thought as she hid a smile.

Rika stood up, leaning her hands on the table so she could stare Jason down with her fiercely determined eyes. "There is nothing you can teach me Jason Brody, but do not worry. I will not let you starve while you are under my roof." her own smirk showing now. "I have been taking care of you along with Rohana for so long why should I stop now?"

Both of them turned at the sound of a very unlady like snort that came from the healer. The old woman assumed a serious face as if nothing had happened and just sat there picking at her nails. When the silence drew out a little too long she looked up, pretending she had only now noticed. "What? Are we leaving already?"

Jason chuckled as he got to his feet. "Guess so." His booted steps were heavy as he walked out the door, his voice calling back. "Come on kid let's get the old lady home then we can see who will be taking care of who." Knowing full well he'd just thrown fuel on the fire with his choice of words.

Rika glared towards the door, but when she felt Rohana's gnarled hand on her arm she looked over.

"Don't shame him too bad. A man's ego can be easily broken if handled poorly." the old healer advised with a sly grin.

Jason had no idea what he was in for, but Rika was dead set on teaching the pig brained man child a lesson in humility.

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Elsewhere on Rook Island.

Citra's elite Rakyat warriors had begun their counter attacks on the Eastern outposts. In a matter of days three would fall, cutting off the pirate's access to the well used roads that ran the length of the coast. The Southern most outposts were then cut off and with no hope of reinforcements things would not look good. The pirates themselves would take heavy losses, with the elite Rakyat only suffering wounds. Their attacks were well executed, coming in the dead of night, and always silently. Their knives and bows claiming life after life as they carried out the orders their war goddess had left for them. They had no idea that she was no longer in the sacred temple of their tribe, that she had in fact gone on her own journey to find the center.

The elite Rakyat would press their attacks, keeping the pirates busy with their guerrilla tactics and driving Vaas to new levels of rage. The pirate lord would soon be forced to dispatch armored troops and vehicles mounted with heavy guns in an effort to retake the lost outposts. Needless to say Vaas was in such a foul mood that everyone around him was on edge and fearful of losing their lives should they step out of line in any way. However the pirates and prisoners at the pirate lord's compound would find relief in a manner of speaking in the not too distant future. Their self proclaimed king on the other hand, not so much.

Little did Vaas Montenegro know that very soon his life was going to be turned upside down in the most unlikely of ways.


	13. The King and I

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

I want to take a moment to thank my beta reader and most importantly, my wife, socoangel.

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Inside his compound on the tiny islet just north of Rook Island, Vaas Montenegro was in a foul mood. No matter how many times he thought about it, nothing changed. If he tried this, no good. If he tried that, also no good. Oh, but what about doing it like this? Nope. Then what if he did that? Not gonna happen then either. Nothing worked, not one damn thing!

"Fuck!" Vaas swiped an arm across a table, sending beer cans, bottles, papers, cellphones, a few laptops, the remains of the meal he'd never finished, and a dozen other things all crashing to the floor.

Leaning on the table he pressed his fists into its stained surface so hard that the pain started to feel good. He allowed himself this little relief and then stood.

Running his palms along the shaved sides of his head he muttered to himself. "Ok...ok,ok,ok...I have product, but no buyer. I need product, but I have no seller." Raking his fingers down the sides of his head he kicked the table over. "Goddamn it!"

The problem was two fold. First there were the hostages. Vaas was supposed to capture people. Those who were either lured here or strayed too close of their own bad luck. It was his job to sort out those worth being sold and those not. The lucky ones got killed, sometimes in entertaining ways, the rest were broken down until they were passive enough to be transferred to Hoyt's facilities and then sold. Only now there was no Hoyt so there was nobody to send the hostages to. A product without a buyer was pointless. Keeping them alive and healthy, not to mention in good enough shape was not something he or his men were trained to handle. Vaas knew that, but he didn't know what to do with the product now that Hoyt was gone.

To top it off, those damn weekend warriors on the Southern island had tried to make him pay for a shipment that was owed to him. It was his!

Which brings up the second part. Vaas was going to run out of drugs and guns. The guns he wasn't so worried about. There were always places to get guns on Rook Island, but the drugs, now that was a different story. He didn't give a shit about the weed, that shit was too weak for him. He required something more substantial. His preferred drug of choice being morphine. It was a wonderful ride and one of the only ways he managed to get any sleep when his fevered mind allowed it that was. Just a little taste a day, nothing too much, just enough to set him right. Then at the end of a long week he indulged in more than just a taste, enough to put him down for hours. It was his reward for a job well done. A payday to himself for not burning the whole fucking island to the ground after all. Again the problem was Hoyt being dead. Without Hoyt there was no morphine and that was not so easy to find on Rook Island. Medical supplies were in heavy demand and anything stronger than aspirin was horded like a Catholic girl's virginity. The good ones, not those cock teasers who ended up with every hole stuffed by the time they were fourteen.

So Vaas was faced with two problems, both having the same cause. Namely, Hoyt being dead. Which meant that the last shipment he'd taken off those privateers would have to last him. He'd have to be frugal with the morphine, cut out his weekend payday and make due with the little tastes.

"Shit!" Grabbing one of the legs of the overturned table, he ripped it off and beat the remaining legs apart one by one in a rage. Then he flung his improvised weapon at the far wall and watched it clatter to the floor. "Motherfucker!" Vaas raged, hands clenched.

The door to the room opened and a pirate poked his head in. "You ok boss?"

"Get the fuck out!" Vaas barked, pulling his pistol and blasting a hole in the wall next to the man's head.

Instantly the pirate vanished, the door lazily swinging open in his wake. Vaas rubbed the gun against his temple, closing his eyes, trying to work out something to do about the problem.

"Hoyt you limp dick." Muttering to himself. "You go and let one fucker kill you...one...ONE!" He ran the barrel of the gun all over the top of his head. "You bitch at me about handling that white boy Jason...but what do you do, huh? What do you do? You let a nobody, some...some fucking...wanna be Rambo cocksucker...that fucking Foster asshole...you let him just waltz right in, eh? Just take you down. Just like that...LIKE THAT!"

He brought he free hand up and took hold of his gun hand, pulling it down and slowly easing the pistol back into the holster on the back of his hip. With his hands free he let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling, breathing through his mouth, but still no closer to an answer. After a minute he pointed at the ceiling.

"Hoyt I...no wait, wrong way." He stopped himself, then aimed his pointing finger down at the floor. "Ok now, as I was saying...Hoyt you put me in a really bad spot, huh? I mean I did my job. So it is not my fault, no no, because I...I handled things. It is you...Yes it is Hoyt. I...Hey...No, listen to me. Hey. HEY!" Whipping his pistol out again, Vaas aimed at the floor as if threatening it. "Shut the fuck up and listen to me! I'm the one in charge now! Me!" Pounding his chest with his other hand. "You fucked up ok, not me! I killed my white boy, but you...you, no you had to bend over like a little bitch!"

The radio clipped to his belt chirped to life and a voice spoke over the static. "Boss, new product coming in at the docks. One of the tour boats."

New product, damn it now he had even more people to worry about. Taking up the radio he replied, "I'm on my way. Get to work." Putting the radio back in place, he eyed the floor as if he didn't trust it. Waving his gun at it a few times before sliding it back into its holster. "Enjoy your time in Hell. You have nobody to blame but yourself Hoyt."

With that he moved towards the open door. Passing through it he paused and licked his finger, then stuck it through the bullet hole in the wall. With a little snicker he exited the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

No sooner had he stepped out into the humid air of the day his radio chirped again. This time a stranger's voice broke the static.

"Vaas Mantenegro." A man asked, sounding like a radio announcer with his almost too smooth delivery.

Around the compound the pirates nearest to Vaas stopped what they were doing and turned to look his way. The pirate lord brought his radio up, waggling his brows at the men closest to him. "You have reached the office of Vaas Montenegro. May I ask who is calling?" He replied cheekily.

"Paul Harmon." the voice answered smoothly.

Vaas didn't know that name. "So sorry, but ah...no bells are ringing ok. So am I like, supposed to know you?"

The radio cracked with static, but in the distance the sound of a helicopter was growing louder. "Not at all Mr Montenegro." Paul said through the radio. "However the man I represent should be someone you know."

Vaas as well as the rest of the pirates turned towards the sound of the approaching chopper. Keeping the radio close to his mouth, he hopped on top of a stack of crates and shielded his eyes against the sun. "I know a lot of people." he quipped. Then he saw the chopper. It wasn't any kind used on the islands. In fact it looked like something a rich guy or some important politician type would fly around in. Squinting he couldn't see any guns on it and it was coming from the West.

"Well Mr Montenegro is it alright if my boss and I set this bird down and have a little face to face talk with you?" Paul's voice was neutral, as if he were discussing the weather rather than dealing with a very dangerous man.

Vaas watched the chopper do a fly over and before replying. "Why not. I got time before I have to torture my new toys. Set down on the beach." He pointed at his men, then motioned for them to get ready to move out. "But let me warn you Mr Harmon. Fuck with me and I'll gut you like a fish amigo, eh."

"Of course." came the cheery reply.

Clipping the radio back onto his belt, Vaas lept down from the crates and made his way out of his compound, the pirates swarming around him in a tight group. Clucking his tongue, Vaas wondered just who in the hell thought they could just fly over his island? Already he was thinking about adding a few new heads to his little garden.

The islet was dominated by the compound and what wasn't was overgrown with thick jungle. This left only a small beach on the Western side with enough open space for the chopper to land. By the time Vaas had walked there the dull green chopper with a broad yellow stripe along its length was already on the ground, its engine off and the blades slowly turning quietly.

The side door was open and a man was standing beside the chopper talking to somebody inside it. He was average height, looked to be in his late 30s early 40s, thick black hair that was cut neat with a part on the left side, wearing a short sleeve red t-shirt with a military style vest over it. Turning towards the approaching group the man smiled and gave a happy wave in greeting as he stepped away from the chopper.

"Hello!" Approaching the group with not a care in the world. "I'm Paul." he said.

Vaas stepped to the front of the pirates, crossing his arms as he eyed the newcomer up and down. The guy looked like a banker or something trying to play with the big dogs. "Welcome to Fantasy Island. So sorry but we are all out of midgets." Vaas mocked with a cocky grin. Behind him the pirates laughed.

Pointing at the mohawked pirate lord, Paul chuckled. "Funny! I was told you had a very unique sense of humor. I like that."

"No more chit chat." Vaas stepped in close to Paul, nose to nose. "Who are you, mmm? Just dropping by for...what eh? What the fuck do you want?" he asked with a fair amount of threat in his tone.

A new voice, a very cultured and calculated one, called out from the chopper. "Now now, let us not start out on the wrong foot shall we."

All eyes turned as a tall Asian man in a finely tailored, but gaudy pink suit was stepping off the chopper. His head was shaven much like Vaas, but unlike the black mohawk the pirate lord sported, this man's hair was so blond it was almost white and swept forward and to the side over his right eye, and he had to be at least 50, maybe less. His expensive Italian leather shoes seemed to glide over the sand of the beach rather than trudge, as he made his way towards them. His dark brown eyes lit up the moment he saw Vaas.

"Now there is a fellow I have not seen in ages!" Clapping his hands together, the man strolled towards his associate frowning just a bit. "Paul have you gone and upset our host already? What have I told you? Manners, manners, manners." Then his lips twitched into a quirk of a smile.

Vaas blinked very slowly, rubbing his temples. Oh yes he knew this man, it had been a while, but nobody ever forgot meeting him. "This shit...dios this shit right now." he muttered under his breath. "I need this...like, like...a fucking hole in my fucking head."

Paul gestured towards his boss while keeping his eyes on the gathered pirates. "Everyone I'd like you to meet Pagan Min." Then turning to the outlandishly dressed figure beside him. "Pagan Min...everyone."

Pagan drew up alongside Paul, giving a short glance past Vaas to the curious throng of frankly unwashed and ignorant looking pirates. He threw a little wave their way before turning his full attention to their leader. The warmth in his voice quite sincere. "Vaas Montenegro! My it has been too long."

In a move that shocked every pirate there, Pagan swept Vaas into a hug, patting him on the back. For his own part Vaas stood there with a completely bored, if not semi brooding look on his face.

"What do you want Pagan?" he all but sighed out.

Pulling back and looking a tiny bit chastised, Pagan huffed. "Well you don't have to be like that my boy. I would have thought that you of all people would be happy to see me considering how our mutual friend Mr Volker has, shall we say, met his end, hmm?"

Vaas put a finger on Pagan's chest and pushed him back very slowly. The older man glanced down at the digit and then back up. "No? Perhaps I misjudged the situation then?" Pagan asked with a sly grin.

"Hoyt is dead. I run things now ok." Vaas thumbed his own chest. "Me. Is that clear? I don't need any of Hoyt's friends coming around to bust my balls. Ok...you understand that shit? Is that clear to you old man? Do I need to like, draw you a picture huh?"

Paul stepped between the two men, holding a hand up to ward Vaas off. "Come on now there's no need to - "

Instantly Vaas had his pistol pointed up Paul's nose. Behind him every pirate brought their guns to bear and things got very tense. Paul slowly, ever so slowly raised both hands into the air to show he wasn't going to be a problem. Pagan didn't seem troubled in the least. In fact he began to inspect his nails, deciding that as soon as possible he was due for a manicure.

On the other hand, Vaas's voice dropped into dangerous territory as he made his point clear, his bright green eyes locking onto Paul's brown. "No need to what, huh? No need to deal with your bullshit? I agree...Yes I fucking agree with that. Is that what you were going to say, eh? Tell me it was, because if you were about to tell me something like...oh I don't know...there's no need to get all bent out of shape, or worked up, or hostile...see that shit, that shit right there...it's just not gonna fly ok. No, no, no...cause this is my island." Vaas pressed Paul back a few steps, his gun scrunching the older man's nose up as he did. Pagan glanced at the two with a tiny smirk on his face.

"This is my kingdom." Vaas went on. "I make the rules here. I decide who lives...who dies. Me. Only me. So before you start telling me what to fucking do in my own goddamn fucking kingdom I suggest ok...I suggest that you, you check to see if your dick is bigger than mine. Because if it is not...I am going to fuck you...like a bitch."

By this point Paul had begun to sweat and it wasn't just from the humidity and heat. Pagan decided to come to his aid as it were.

"Come now Vaas." he began, but the pirate lord quickly spun around, training his pistol on Pagan.

"You!" he snapped.

"Me." Pagan calmly replied, clasping his hands behind him.

Stepping away from Paul, leaving the man to rub his nose and sigh in relief. "How the fuck do you know about what happened to Hoyt?" Vaas demanded.

Pagan rolled his eyes with a little chortle. "Oh come now. You don't think I have people for such things? Hoyt Volker wasn't just a friend of mine, he was a business associate as well." Waving a hand around to encompass the whole of not only the islet, but Rook Island as well. "Have you any idea how much of an investment I have in this place, hmm? Of how many people I've moved to and from your little cages? The sheer amount of drugs that pass through here that I provide?" Bringing both hands together he pointed his index fingers at Vaas. "You and Hoyt practically lived off me my boy. Who do you think helped set up this little operation?"

"I'm not your boy." Vaas warned, only to be ignored as Pagan kept on going.

"Hoyt came to me years ago wanting to get out of South Africa, to set up somewhere he was untouchable. I was the one who provided him with the contacts, the capital to start this...to start you." Indicating Vaas with an little flourish of his hand.

Vaas got right in Pagan's face, the hand holding his pistol twitching dangerously. "What? You think you own me is that it? That I owe you something, huh? I don't owe you shit. You hear me old man." Locking eyes with the former Triad boss. "You, me...nothing. You might have been Hoyt's little buddy ok...but me and you...we are nothing. Anything you had...You had with Hoyt so you can take your pimp suit and your little bitch over there and fly away into the sunset ok. You think you're gonna come in here and what...run things? Huh? Is that it? Think that some outsider is just gonna come in and take what is mine away from me? Oh no,no,no,no...See I went down that rabbit hole once, ok. Hoyt tried and look where it got him, eh? See this place, it doesn't like outsiders...it eats them up. Now you want to come here...you want to come here and put your dick in the glory hole, eh? Want to get your rocks off in my kingdom?" Vaas chuckled darkly. "Same shit, different day...did I ever tell you the definition of insanity?" Waving his pistol back and forth in Pagan's face.

A slow wicked smile spread over Pagan's lips and he stepped even closer to Vaas. Taking hold of the pistol he brought it up so it rested on his forehead, his dark brown eyes going wide with anticipation. When he spoke his words were laced with excitement, his cultivated voice dropping into a husky whisper. "Oh my dear Vaas, I... _ **AM**_...the very definition of insanity."

Everyone held their breath. Something passed between Pagan and Vaas, some unspoken understanding. Vaas holstered his pistol with a wide grin and snapping his fingers, ordered the pirates to lower their weapons as well. Pagan straightened his jacket and ran a hand through his hair with the air of an actor about to take the stage.

"Damn Vaas I have missed this! You never let me down. Never a dull moment." Pagan sighed happily.

"So glad I could entertain you." Vaas said with a little eye roll.

Pagan wagged a finger at him. "No I'm serious. Last time I saw you was what...seven, eight years ago? At the time you had just started working for Hoyt. I remember you were this savage young man with murder in your veins." Pagan's eyes seemed to be looking at something far off. "Hoyt told me he had big plans for you. Oh he hated the locals here, despised them really. Ah but you, you Vaas he made an exception for. You stood out you see. I must admit I agreed with him. I could tell right away you were meant for greater things."

With a tilt of his head to one side, Vaas crossed his arms. "Stop blowing smoke up my ass hermano."

Again wagging a finger, Pagan went on. "Accept the compliment. In fact, had Hoyt not taken you under his wing as it were, I would have tried to lure you away from this tropical paradise to work for me. I could have used somebody with your talents, your drive. Ah but look at you now. A king!"

Stepping forward to clasp Vaas by his shoulders. "So from one king to another how about we work together, hmm? Hoyt's gone and I know that things on his island have degraded into less than favorable conditions." Pagan winced when Vaas scowled. "Now don't make that face. I have my ways and I know how unruly those little soldiers of his have become. No doubt you've already butted heads with them. Well I'm here to put and end to all that."

Vaas narrowed his eyes. "How you gonna do that, huh? You gonna take his place? Gonna run the circus? That suit would fit." he teased, sticking just the tip of his tongue out as he smiled.

Pagan grinned devilishly, ignoring the verbal jab. "I can tell you are not keen on that idea at all, but in a manner of speaking that is exactly what I intend to do. Now before you get all shoot first and rant later, let me explain." Putting an arm around Vaas's shoulder he began to walk away from the pirates and Paul, making sure the two of them could talk privately. "I was not making light when I said from one king to another Vaas. I truly understand that Rook Island is yours. It belongs to you. Sooner or later it was always going to be yours. Hoyt never understood that. If he wasn't dead already, in time you would have done away with him. He was holding you back. You are king here. I respect your position as such and I will do absolutely nothing to change that. I know how heavy is the head that wears the crown you see. I myself was king of a little out of the way country and let me tell you it was not all flowers and sunshine."

Vaas snorted, but let the older man talk.

"Ah but you know what I'm talking about. Just like I know all about your little problem with a certain escapee running amok on your island, causing all amounts of trouble. However you took care of that and splendidly I might add. While on the other hand Hoyt goes and gets himself killed by one of his own men. How embarrassing!" Putting a hand to his own temple as if to ward off a headache. "I mean how does that even happen? Do not get me wrong, Hoyt was a friend, but one of his own men? So unprofessional."

"Fucking stupid dickhead." Vaas added.

"Yes exactly!" Pagan nodded. "Now as I said, I was a king myself, but recently I gave all that up. I felt it was time to move on. It was getting old you see. Tedious if you will. Luckily as fate would have it a young man who was perfect for the job fell right into my lap. Sort of a family thing really. I won't bore you with the details, needless to say we had a little talk and he saw things my way and I knew he was the one I could pass the torch to as it were. So I left the kingdom in his hands and went off to find myself something new, some place I could recharge my spirit."

Vaas snorted again. "Let me guess you want to relax on the beach and work on your tan?"

Pagan stopped walking and held both hands out as he inspected them. "God I am pale!"

"Get to the fucking point." Vaas ground out.

"Ah yes my point." Pagan nodded. "I want to set up shop on Hoyt's island."

Vaas growled low in his throat, but Pagan waved his anger aside.

"I said on Hoyt's island. Not your island. This is your kingdom, I meant that. Think about it Vaas, the Southern island is overflowing with half cocked ego driven soldier types who will never respect you, never consider you their leader no matter how well you pay them. They don't understand you, what you are capable of. The moment you start putting them in their place with your brand of dominance they will buck and when they do you will have to come down on them all the harder and soon the cycle grows out of control until you have a full blown war on your hands." Pagan patted Vaas's chest with a friendly hand.

"So." Vaas shrugged. "I like killing people. Works for me."

Pagan clucked his tongue in thought. "Let me put it another way. Why waste your time on them when there are more pressing matters here for you to focus on? Things like your sister and her little band of monkeys."

"I'm gonna kill that bitch soon enough, don't fucking worry about that, ok." Vaas assured him with a sneer.

"No doubt, but my point is...Vaas, let me help you. Let me worry about the Southern island. I'll pick up where Hoyt left off. I'll whip those soldiers of his into shape and make sure you can go about your business. Once I have things well in hand there, then you and I can get back to work, but as partners. Making money hand over fist. Now doesn't that sound good?"

"Partners?" The single word held a ton of doubt, but Vaas was entertaining the idea anyway.

Pagan could see he had the pirate lord interested now. "That is it precisely. Real partners. Not like how Hoyt treated you, not like some guard dog on a leash. No talking down to you. Vaas, you and I will be equals. Two kings standing high over the peasants groveling at our feet." Gesturing out with his hand towards the horizon.

Vaas couldn't hide the little grin that came to his lips. "I do like that." Cocking his head to the side, he pursed his lips. "So how do we do this, eh? Make me understand your plan."

"Excellent!" Pagan clapped. "Now first off I would like to make a change. Namely, no more human trafficking."

"What the fuck?" Vaas planted his hands on his hips. "That is like...like my number one thing! I bring people in and Hoyt sends them out. Big money amigo, big fucking money!"

With a nod the Chinese man agreed. "Yes of course, but also big risk. I mean have you considered how dangerous it is to deal in people? I've dealt with slaves on a scale you and Hoyt never did, but I kept them all in house as it were. I never sold outside the country I ruled, never took in any from outside either. I have done my homework Vaas and the majority of the slaves you and Hoyt move through here just aren't worth it. The ones who have the cash or whose family have the cash to make good on their cost are few and far between and those that do are the sort that when they go missing for any length of time, well it gets noticed. Then there is the fact that you go through a lot of white people in your line of work."

Again shrugging, "So who gives a shit. White pricks go for more money, so what?"

"That's because my boy, white people are dangerous. Think about it. Take America for instance. Let one fellow named Smith go missing and show up with a ransom from a foreign country and they all but send the damned Marines to get him. It simply isn't worth the risk. Not to mention that even when you do manage to sell off a slave there is no guarantee that someday they won't escape from whomever purchased them and then what? What if they talk about what happened to them? About who sold them and where they are? No, human trafficking just isn't worth it."

Vaas was now tapping his fist against his thigh. "Wait, wait, wait...you just want to, to what? Fucking just cut it out? What the shit am I supposed to do with all these damn people, eh?" Pointing into the distance, no doubt towards where the hostages were kept on the larger island.

"Who cares? So long as they do not leave this island. Shoot them. Play hide and go boom or whatever little games you come up with. Hand them out as bonuses to your men. Open a zoo. I really do not care. Just that the trafficking is done." Pagan said with finality.

Vaas threw his head back with a long sigh, thinking. "So just drugs...fuck no, no, no...That isn't enough."

"I never said it was." Pagan agreed. "That is why I want to introduce new product. Guns. Every kind we can get our hands on, but that will only be for now. In the future I intend to move into the arena of privatized paramilitary forces."

Vaas looked back at Pagan curiously, "What the fuck?"

"Hoyt employed what amounts to a small private army. I intend to really whip them into shape and begin hiring them out for jobs all over the world. Let me tell you, there is a market out there for highly trained individuals to perform less than civilized jobs and I think we can tap into that market with brilliant results. Rook Island provides us with not only a unique location, but one that is protected from direct intervention by Interpol and NATO. Rook Island falls under the province of Thailand, a country that has a long and vaunted history dealing with the UN. No police force is going to make a move against us while we reside within the protective shadow of Thailand. It would be like hiding right under their noses. The implications are delicious." His smile was infectious.

Vaas considered it all and was starting to really like the sound of it. "So you...you get Hoyt's island. I keep my island. We run this shit how we want to, equal partners and all that shit. No more slaves...instead drug, guns, and mercs...I deal with my shit here and you deal with your shit there."

"Exactly." Still smiling as he held his hand out for Vaas to shake. "Do we have a deal then?"

"Fuck it." Vaas said, taking Pagan's hand. "Why the hell not, I can always kill you later, eh?" said with a half grin.

"Damn right. We can always just try to kill each other if it doesn't work out." Pagan's own grin was predatory. "Oh this is going to be great fun my boy, great fun! I can tell."

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Hours later Pagan's executive helicopter was sitting on the helipad of the freighter ship he owned. Just because the former Triad boss had left the country of Kyrat to Ajay Ghale didn't mean that he'd left empty handed. After all, one needed the little comforts when traveling abroad. The ship's course would take it to the Southern island of the Rook archipelago, the one that Hoyt Volker had used as his center of operations and the very place Pagan Min intended to set out upon his latest venture.

Below deck Pagan threw open the door to his temporary office, breezing in with a sigh. "Good lord it is quite the relief to be out of that sweltering heat!"

Behind him, Paul stepped in and shut the door behind him. "You get used to it." He shrugged, taking a seat in one of the two chairs facing the broad desk that dominated the room.

Pagan scoffed. "You're made of hardier stock than I." Sliding his pink tailored suit coat off he tossed it aside with disdain, letting it fall over a love seat nestled against the far wall. In short order he opened the top few buttons of his dress shirt, popped the buttons at his wrist and rolled up his sleeves. "Ah now that's so much better." he said, enjoying the coolness of the air conditioning. Smoothing his hair back into place he stepped lightly over to a small collection of various shaped bottles, chose an expensive brandy and began pouring himself a drink. Turning he offered Paul a drink by way of wiggling the bottle a bit.

"Ah, no thank you." the American replied with a touch of something in his voice.

Returning the bottle to its place, Pagan sipped the brandy happily. Turning, glass in hand, he held it near his chin, his free hand cupping his bent elbow as he looked at his friend. He hadn't missed that little touch of annoyance in Paul's voice. "I can tell something's on your mind De Pleur."

Shifting in the chair, Paul nodded. "Its Vaas."

Pagan smiled almost sweetly. "Go on." taking another little sip of his brandy.

"I don't trust him." Paul confessed. "He's a loose cannon. He's not even remotely sane. Man like that can't be controlled. That makes him a problem. Maybe not today, but down the line, definitely."

Pagan's melodic laugh filled the office as he moved to fall into the leather chair behind the desk, propping his feet up. He stared at the ceiling while he spoke. "Yes he is quite the handful I agree. Yet I can't help but find that aspect of him the most interesting."

"Interesting?" Paul asked with a furrow of his brows. "There are a lot of words I'd use to describe that guy, but that's not one of them. Honestly Min I think he's just a problem. One we should take care of."

Pagan's gaze slid over to Paul and held him in place as if some invisible weight were pressing down on him. Paul tugged at the collar of his shirt with a little gulp.

"No I don't think so. I like Vaas. I want Vaas around." Pagan's words were clipped, direct, and final. "Do you want to know why, Hm?" Twirling his free hand in the air he went on. "Because Vaas doesn't cower before me. For too long everyone around me just bowed down. Whatever Pagan wants, Pagan gets. All hail King Min. Whatever you desire King Min. My life for you King Min. Yada yada yada...on and on. God its so, ugh...boring." Sipping his drink again he pulled his feet down and sat forward to stare at Paul.

"You know I never knew a person could ever get tired of being worshiped, but I did. I mean not only was I the King of Kyrat, but there was this pseudo religion that came about after I published that little manifesto of mine, that travel guide, er memoir...whatever you want to call it, that Pagan Min's Kyrat."

Paul rocked his head side to side a little in thought. "Well you did lay it on pretty thick in places. Talking about yourself like you were some divine man from afar sent to save the people and all that."

Pagan shuddered. "Don't remind me." This time gulping the rest of the brandy before setting the glass down on the desk. "What was I thinking? There I was tearing down every religious landmark I could find, blowing up temples, melting down idols, and I go and basically make myself the central figure of some, some..."

"Pagan religion." Paul snickered.

"Oh you wry little bugger." Pagan wagged a finger at Paul. "Though I can't say you're wrong now can I? Honestly since leaving Kyrat I simply can **_not_** fathom some of the things I was doing all those years." He braced his elbows on the desk and held his head in his hands with a sigh.

For long minutes the two men sat in silence. Paul knew most of Pagan's past, the two of them had become more than just business partners, but actual friends. Pagan had even come stateside and met his family, so the feared torturer and ruler of the City of Pain felt he had a good grasp of the man sitting across from him.

"Look Min, you did what you felt you had to do." he offered.

"Did I?" Pagan countered, raising his head to look at his friend. "You know when I first assumed control of Kyrat and put myself on the throne it was not just a power grab. As the leader of Kyrat, the defacto King, I was afforded certain levels of protection. It's one thing to track down and arrest a Triad boss, but quite another to enter a country without the ruling faction's permission and take possession of their ruler. Kyrat was a safety zone with many benefits. I never set out to actually try and become a king in anything more than name only." With a little huff he sat back, the leather chair creaking as he spun it around slowly, over and over. "Before I knew it I was thinking about things like how to deal with the crumbling infrastructure of an entire country that was little more than glorified yak herders and monkeys. I mean I was one of the most feared people in Hong Kong Paul! My name would send grown men scurrying away like rats. What in the bloody hell was I doing worrying about how to improve tourism or providing clean drinking water to schools, or building schools for that matter?"

Paul let the older man rant, knowing he needed to get the words out. He'd been privy to more than a few of Pagan's rants over the years and he had kept everything he heard to himself.

"Tell me Paul..." Still spinning his chair around slowly. "...Where did I lose my way?"

Swallowing, Paul took a breath before treading very lightly. "We both know the answer to that."

Pagan's idle spinning stopped and he sat staring at one of the walls, but not seeing it. His thoughts were somewhere else, with someone who he could no longer be with, not ever again. When he spoke his voice sounded very tired. "Yes. Yes we do."

"Is there anything I can do?"

The question seemed to snap Pagan out of his stupor. He swiveled his chair to face Paul again. "Yes there is actually." He smiled, "I want you to take some time off. Head back home. See your family. You've earned it."

"But, there's so much to do here." Paul balked at the suggestion. "We haven't even set up shop on Hoyt's island. You'll need me."

Waving away the other man's concerns, Pagan's smile turned devilish. "Don't be silly. You run home and give Laura and Ashley my best. I'll see to things on the island. Rest assured I intend to have a great deal of fun doing so."

Still not quite sold on the matter, Paul started to say more, but Pagan held up a hand.

"I won't hear another word De Pleur." Pointing at him, Pagan was stern, but caring in his tone. "Family is very important and you've been gone longer than normal. My pulling up roots and leaving Kyrat put you in a pinch and I can't stress how thankful I am for your expertise in the matter. However it's time for you to take a well deserved vacation." Pagan looked down at the desk, smoothing his hands over its surface, that devilish grin still playing across his lips. "Besides I can't help but look forward to tackling that island myself. It's been so long since I had to survive on my own wiles and I can't help but feel a thrill at the notion of it. Of getting my hands into things." His voice taking on an air of excitement.

Paul chuckled. "Oh I see. You want to hoard all the fun for yourself."

Pagan gave a rueful little smile and a sidelong look Paul's way. "You know me far too well my friend."

Paul pushed up from the chair, brushing his hands down his shirt. "I get it. You've been out of the game and you want to test yourself. See if you still have what it takes. In that case consider me off the clock."

"Excellent!" Pagan all but cooed. "I'll have the helicopter ready for you. I'm sure once you're back in Thailand you can make your own way from there."

"Not a problem." Paul assured him. "But you call the moment you need me ok?"

"Of course." Pagan assured him.

"Alright. Guess I'll be on my way then."

Pagan stood and reached out to shake hands with the American. "Don't forget to give your family my regards."

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Back on Rook Island, Vaas arrived at the processing complex on the North island. The large encampment was bustling with activity of all kinds from the care and feeding of prisoners, cataloging and sorting of baggage, all the way down the line of torments to killing, rape, and torture. It might seem chaotic at first glance, but Vaas had whipped the entire process into an almost factory like procedure from start to finish.

No sooner had the jeep he'd been riding in come to a skidding stop, then Vaas was out and walking towards the cages where the new arrivals were kept. The wailing and screaming didn't even register to him any more than the mutterings and the crying. The years had deadened him to such things. It was all business, nothing more, nothing less.

However the shriek of rage that rang out ahead of him definitely caught his attention. Curious, he strode towards a small gathering of pirates that seemed to be watching something. Shouldering his way into the group he soon saw what held their attention. One of his men, a large man by the name of Manuel, was having a great deal of trouble getting a woman into one of the cages. The first thing Vaas noticed about her was the dark red color of her hair. It was short, layered to angle toward her chin, with the longest of of it hanging to frame her face quite nicely. Her skin was pale and since she was only wearing a bikini top and shorts, she was already starting to burn in the tropical sun. At one time she might have had shoes on, but now she was barefoot and struggling against Manuel for all she was worth as he held her by the back of her neck and tried to shove her into the open door of a bamboo cage.

Vaas leaned his head close to a pirate. "Amigo what the fuck is this?"

"Boss!" The pirate grinned wide. "This is funny shit. That bitch is a real piece of work. Manuel has been trying to get her in there since she got here."

"She came with the tour boat peoples?" Vaas asked as he watched the spectacle.

"Uh huh."

Rolling his eyes, Vaas brought two fingers to his mouth and whistled long and loud, getting everyone's attention. "Hey! Manuel!" he barked. "Get that bitch in that cage pronto! Like...right the fuck now!"

"Ok boss." Manuel nodded once, then turned back to trying to shove the woman into the cage.

She had her feet braced against the sides of the open door, her fingers clawing at the big man's hand where it was latched onto the back of her neck.

"Let go of me you son of a bitch!" she demanded.

"Fucking cunt." Manuel groused.

The woman froze, her eyes going wide. It was then that Vaas saw they were the clearest blue he'd ever seen. Like a reflection of the sky above. The fact he could see their brilliant hue as far away as he was only told him how amazing they must look up close. This new discovery lead him to examine her in greater detail. She had a good shape to her. Good hips, nice tits, taut stomach, with muscles playing under her skin. She wasn't ripped, but it was clear she took care of herself. Not bad he thought, not bad at all.

"Cunt?" she growled the word. "Who the fuck are you calling a cunt you cocksucker?"

She kicked back with every ounce of strength in her body, catching the big man by surprise at just how much of it she had. Manuel stumbled back, losing his grip on her neck as he did. The moment her feet touched the ground she spun on him, her elbow slicing across his face with a wet crunching sound. Everyone watching winced as they saw Manuel's nose flop to one side, obviously broken. Blood began to pour down over his mouth.

"Fuck!" he yelped.

She didn't hesitate, reaching out to take hold of his shirt, then she kicked one of his feet right out from under him, while at the same time levering him backwards so he landed flat on his back. She on the other hand followed him down and twisting, slammed her arm backwards over his throat, nearly crushing his windpipe. Again everyone watching winced.

"Holy shit!" Vaas cat called. "Get'em chica! Wooo!"

The woman mounted Manuel and began raining down punches UFC style. It was all the big man could do to breathe at this point with his nose a bloody broken mess and his throat swelling so that it felt like it would close off at any moment. He couldn't focus under the relentless barrage of strikes the woman was delivering.

"Who's the cunt now motherfucker?" she snarled, drawing back her now blood covered fists again and again.

The pirate next to Vaas piped up. "Hey boss shouldn't we help him or something?"

Vaas considered the question, letting Manuel suffer a bit longer, then he relented with a lopsided grin. "Yeah I guess so." Pointing to three of his men he snapped his fingers. "Get in there before she kills him, eh?"

The woman was still hammering on Manuel, with no end in sight, then she felt strong arms haul her off the target of her rage and throw her to the ground. She didn't stay there long though. She was on her feet reflexively, ready and willing to go. Two of the pirates looked at her warily, while the third was helping Manuel up. The big man was gasping for air and alternately coughing and spitting blood. He waved a fist at the woman.

"Bith knocked thome theeth ouh!" he garbled.

The woman smirked, wiping the palm of one hand across her chin. "Your boyfriend can thank me later when you don't scrape his dick." she mocked.

More than a few of the onlookers laughed, Vaas loudest of all. Manuel looked around embarrassed and tried to salvage his pride. "Fuckin cunth!" he went right for her, shoving the man closest to him out of the way.

The woman ducked the slow punch sent her way and sprang up with an uppercut that caught Manuel right on the tip of his chin, effectively sending him ramrod straight like a pole. Eyes rolled back in his head, he slowly began to tilt backwards. She wasn't done though, taking a step back, she sent her foot into his crotch with the force of a professional soccer player. It was hard enough to lift Manuel off his feet despite his size and the big man went down like a fallen tree.

All around men clutched themselves reflexively, many groaning in sympathy for their fallen comrade.

"Wow! Like...wow!" Vaas, brows high in shock. "Ow, ow, ow, ow...damn ow. Fuck that! No thank you!"

Standing over the fallen Manuel, the woman locked eyes with the closest of the three men Vaas had sent after her. Her blue eyes were livid, his brown eyes were scared. "Well you just gonna stand there?" she challenged.

Vaas cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted encouragement. "Don't be a pussy! Take the bitch down amigos! A thousand dollars to the man who get's her in the cage! Let's go!"

The woman snapped her gaze over to see the one shouting and rightly assumed he must be the leader. She marked him for later and turned back to the other three. They seemed to have gained courage at their leader's words and were circling her. She stepped away from the mercifully unconscious Manuel, making sure to keep some distance from the surrounding crowd as well.

Vaas watched how the woman moved and could tell she was no stranger to fighting. She wasn't some martial art type, even so, her moves were quick, tight, and brutal. She was used to ending things quick. He began to find her more and more interesting.

The first man lunged at her, trying to wrap her up in his arms. That was a mistake. She didn't try to avoid him, but stepped right to him, driving her forehead into his face, breaking his nose as well and sending him stumbling back holding it in pain. With his hands out of the way she kneed him in the gut hard, doubling him over so she could drive her elbow down on the back of his neck. He flattened to the ground and didn't move at all. He wasn't dead, but he wasn't going to be moving any time soon as his spinal cord was sending out shocks all through his body.

"Damn!" Vaas hollered in delight. Oh she was good.

She spun to face the other two men as they charged her together, hoping to overwhelm her. Sidestepping a punch from the closest man, she caught his arm and twisted it to the side while bending his fist down, putting agonizing pressure on his wrist. His shout of pain was music to her ears. The other man got a swift back hand for his troubles when he tried to close in on her. He spun around, blood arching from his busted lips. He staggered away, dazed, leaving her time to deal with the man she still held trapped in the wrist lock. She pulled him forward and he had no choice but to go or else have more than a few of the tiny bones in his wrist break. She brought a foot up and stomped down on his forward knee just as he put all his weight on it. There was a sickening crunch and the man went down with a scream. She held his trapped arm tight, guiding him down to the ground with it, then forcing him over onto his stomach she brought the arm back and wrenched it as hard as she could while falling down to drive her knee into the back of his shoulder. She felt as well as heard his shoulder pop out of the socket, then his arm went limp. Letting go of it and dismissing the whimpering man, she stepped back and turned to face the last of her attackers.

He was holding his bloody mouth with one hand, but he was looking from her then to Vaas with fearful eyes. The pirate wasn't sure what would be worse. Not doing what Vaas said, or trying to deal with the demon of a woman standing over the defeated men.

Blowing strands of her dark red hair away from her sweat covered face, the woman all but purred. "Aww you don't want to play anymore widdle boy?"

A loud whistle cut the air again as Vaas stepped away from the crowd, placing himself between the woman and the obviously terrified pirate. Clapping he strolled towards the woman, grinning broadly.

"Chica let me tell you ok, that...that was fucking beautiful...ok, like, like I don't know...fucking wicked ok." he stopped just outside her reach, but kept clapping. Looking around at his men he shouted. "Well give her a hand fuckers!"

Slowly, one by one, the pirates began to clap until it was a full blown cheer. The woman looked around more than a little confused at first, but soon returned her gaze to the clapping man before her.

"Ok!" Vaas shouted, trying to be heard over the cheers. "Hey!...Hey!" Pulling his pistol he fired off several rounds into the air and everything went quiet. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he roared, then waited a few seconds to make sure he got his point across. Once he was satisfied he holstered the gun. "Sorry...where were we, eh?"

She shook one of her hands, as if trying to get the feeling back into it. "Right where I kick your ass if you try to put me in that fucking cage rooster boy."

A single guffaw came from somewhere in the crowd. Instantly Vaas had his gun out again and was looking around. "Who's the bitch with the big dick? Huh? Speak up!"

Silence.

"Uh huh. I know it was you Reggie. I could tell." Vaas declared darkly, but he did put the gun away. "Later eh...we will discuss what is and is not appropriate in the workplace Reggie." he promised.

From somewhere in the crowd a woeful groan was heard.

Turning his attention back to the woman, Vaas arched his brows. "Rooster boy?" he pondered those words. "You know I do not think I have ever been called that. Props chica. That was a good one I give you that."

She tilted her head to one side, her eyes measuring him. This guy didn't carry himself like the others. At first she thought he was just cocky, but it was more than that. This guy was pure lean muscle stuffed into a tan frame that moved with a air of authority. The guy knew he was in charge and his presence was washing over her despite the distance between them. There were warning bells going off in the back of her brain, in the small part that was still animalistic. That little primitive bit that every human retains no matter how educated and well mannered they might be. This was the part telling her that there was a very real threat standing in front of her.

"How about you let me go then and call us even?" she asked, but knew it was pointless.

Shaking his head slowly, Vaas held his arms wide. "So sorry chica. That I can not do." One side of his mouth lifted up, his eyes alight with mirth. "Tell you what...I tell you what. You take me down ok. You go free. How about it? Is a good deal no?" His arms still held out wide as if inviting her to come at him.

She glanced around at all the others encircling them, then back to Vaas. "That include your crew? They gonna let me walk when I kick your ass?"

Sticking just the tip of his tongue out with a big grin he nodded. "Listen up! If..." he paused. "Hey what's your name chica?"

She faltered. "What?"

Vaas just stood as he was, arms out, grinning. "Name...your name. It is an easy question ok. What...is...your...name?"

"Erin." she relented, but remained on guard.

"Thank you." Vaas gave a little bow, then addressed his men again, raising his voice to be heard. "Ok if Erin kicks my ass she is free to go! You got that amigos? She kicks my ass...she walks. Bye bye. So sorry to see you go ok. Got it?"

Then he locked eyes with Erin, his lips spreading into a predatory smile. "Ok Erin. I did my part. Now let's see if you can do yours, huh? Come on and kick my ass."

Erin dashed forward quick as thought, aiming a punch towards his face. Vaas slapped it aside with an open hand, while his other hand grabbed her by the throat and with no preamble just slammed her to the ground, driving all the air out of her as he went down on one knee. Erin saw stars for a moment and then drew in a lungful of burning air before rolling onto her side coughing. Vaas patted her on the back as if he were helping.

"Its ok." he said. "Just breathe. Let in the good air...yes just like that. Good air in." He took a deep breath himself. "Just like that. Good girl."

Without warning Erin's legs wrapped around Vaas's neck and she twisted her body to the side, bringing him over and onto his back. She rolled over so she ended up kneeling over him, his head locked between her thighs. She took a handful of his mohawk and drew back her other fist. Before she could strike, she was thrown forward when he arched his body up behind her. She found herself face planting in the dirt, but was up and ready to go again. To her surprise she found that Vaas was still laying on the ground. In fact he had his hands folded behind his head and seemed to be looking up at the sky thoughtfully.

"You know I've never had a woman try to get me between her legs that fast." he teased. "You got a little naughty streak in you eh Erin? A little...ah...itch needing a scratch maybe?"

"Fuck you!" she spat.

Rolling over, he locked eyes with her again and pushed himself to his feet. Erin felt her breath catch when she noticed how vividly green his eyes were. They were like two emeralds looking into her very soul. What in the hell was this man?

"Fuck me?" Vaas questioned, pointing to his chest. "Fuck...me? I like the sound of that." Flicking his tongue at her suggestively.

Erin was not amused in the least. "Not gonna happen rooster boy."

"Hey! Ok it was funny the first time! Cut that shit out!" he ordered. "My name is Vaas...Vaas! Get that shit straight ok!"

"Whatever."

"You are one rude bitch." he quipped.

Erin closed the distance between them, throwing quick jabs that he bobbed and weaved to avoid. Vaas found himself backpedaling, but he was ok with that. Then out of nowhere one of her fists caught him in the ribs with a low body blow and he jerked to the side, surprised at just how hard she could hit. Before he could correct his stance she caught him with a right hook to the jaw, snapping his head to the side with a whip crack sound of impact. He blinked, tripping over his own feet, but managed to stay upright. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth and Vaas spit a bright red glob off to the side. Looking back at Erin he grinned all the more.

"Oh oh oh...oh man." gleefully shaking his head to clear it. "That was so fucking good. Damn! Fucking damn! Yeah...I like it!"

Erin had no time to think about how much of a nutcase Vaas must be, as he stalked quickly towards her, his eyes bright with intent. He threw a haymaker punch that she ducked, only to have him knee her in the chest, sending her sprawling to the ground. He was on her instantly, using his larger body and superior strength to overcome her. Erin fought like a cornered animal, clawing at whatever parts of him she could. She wished she didn't keep her nails cut short so she could actually try to draw blood with them, but long nails were not conducive to making a proper fist. So she settled for biting.

"Fuck! Goddamn it not the teeth! Shit! Shit! No, no, no, no!"

Vaas pulled his hand away from her mouth as they rolled around in the dirt. He decided this was enough playing around and slithered behind her, pulling her back against him as he lay on the ground, on top of him with her back to his chest, she struggled to break free. His arm snaked around her neck and he locked in a sleeper hold. She panicked and began to thrash even more than before. It was literally all Vaas could do to keep her locked in. He began to tighten the hold, cutting off her air.

He whispered into her ear. "Shh...shhhhh. Let go now. You did good, but it's over now. Shhh...It's ok. We can talk about it when you wake up ok."

Erin didn't believe him for one second. She knew he was going to kill her. Knew it like gospel. She was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it. At least she'd gone down fighting, she thought as the world began to shrink away.

"...f...f...f-fuck...you...r-rooster...bitch..." she hissed just before blacking out.

Vaas rolled her off him and lay panting. "Oh my god...ok...fucking shit...whew!"

The gathered pirates let out a cheer and closed in to congratulate their leader. Vaas got to his feet and looked around grinning. "Ok ok...fun times are over. Lots to do yeah. Listen up!"

All eyes were on him of course.

"There are going to be some changes. First of all all these little guests of ours...eh...these trespassers on my island. Done! No more. You understand that amigos? I want them gone. I don't care what you do with them. Fuck'em...fight'em...set them on fire. What the fuck ever ok. We are no longer taking visitors as of right now. You can take them if you want them, but hey!" Here he lifted a finger to point around at all the pirates. "You feed them ok. Any pets are not my problem got that? I...do not...give a...fuck. No no no no...not one fuck is to be had or given."

He paused, cocking his head as he looked down at the redhead at his feet. He pointed down at her. "This one is mine. I call dibs. We have an understanding amigos?"

A multitude of agreeing pirates made it quite clear none of them wanted anything to do with the wild woman their boss had choked out.

Looking around Vaas lifted his chin proudly. "Ok assholes get to work!"

The pirates scattered and soon the encampment was alive with screams and gunshots as they gave into their baser urges and did all manner of horrid and vicious things to the pitiful hostages. Many of whom had already been suffering for days in preparation of being ransomed or sold. Some of them had been holding onto tenuous threads of hope throughout the torments, but now they saw those hopes come crashing down as the pirates descended upon them.

Vaas crouched beside the redhead and stroked her hair from her face gently. Yes her pale skin was definitely starting to burn under the harsh sun. It was clear to him that her complexion was ill suited to a place like this.

Talking to himself he wondered aloud, "What are you doing here Erin? Eh?" Looking up, he watched the mayhem his words had produced as it unfolded around him. "To come here to this place...to my island. You don't belong here...not at all." He looked back down at her. "Such is fate eh? We often have no say in what becomes of us? This world...it is like that. Trying to make us into this...or that...or something right?" With a finger he traced her lower lip, enjoying its softness. "Do not worry Erin. I'm going to help you...do not worry ok. Vaas is going to help you find your way...it's going to be fun. You'll see."

He giggled darkly.


	14. Down the rabbit hole

Erin woke to a room she did not know. Over head a fan spun slowly, wobbling as it did. The air felt hot, but not uncomfortable. Swallowing hurt and if the last thing she remembered was any indication she wasn't surprised. Choked out by a rooster headed prick. Man she'd never live that down. Wait. Why was she still alive?

She moved to sit up and found she couldn't. Her wrists were cuffed to the wooden slats of a headboard. She was cuffed on a bed!

"What the hell?" she muttered.

"I see you have returned from sleepy time." a Spanish accent noted wryly.

She knew that cocky voice and it set her teeth grinding. Looking to her right she saw him leaning back in a chair, his booted feet propped up on the bed, almost touching her side. He was fiddling with a smartphone, his green eyes staring at the screen. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew whose phone the prick was messing with.

"Why am I still alive?"

Vaas rolled his head lazily towards her, lifting his brows. "What did you think eh? I was going to kill you? No...no no no...you and me chica. We gonna be pals ok. Besties. Hehehe"

His chuckle did not set her at ease. Erin tugged on the metal cuffs, testing them.

"Those are for your own safety chica." Vaas explained casually. "It would be a shame for you to get hurt flying off the handle you know."

"Yeah right." she seethed, glaring at him.

"Hey I am only looking out for you ok. Imagine ok, just think about it...you wake up all upset at the current situation eh. Then you start taking it out on my men again or trying to remove my teeth." He rubbed the side of his jaw with the back of a hand, grinning at her. "That was a good fucking hit. Props chica."

"Let me up and I'll show you what I can really do." Erin promised.

Vaas clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "I do not think so. First you have to learn to play nice." He paused, cocking his head to the side in thought. "Well at least play nice with me. Everybody else is a case by case basis ok."

Her anger flushed her pale skin so that it matched the reddening splotches of sunburn that adorned her. "You think you can fuck me think again asshole. I'll rip your dick off." Thrashing against the cuffs, her legs kicking frantically.

He was looming over her instantly, one strong hand pressing down on her midsection, just under her breasts. "Cut that shit out!" his voice thundered. "Get this straight now...hear me ok. Open your fucking ears. When it comes to a woman I do not force...I do not pay...I do not take ok. Get that shit straight. A woman comes to me. I do not play that shit. Do not think that I am my men ok. No do not think that. I am a different animal chica. Very fucking different." His strength caused her to sink into the mattress and cease her struggling. Their eyes locked and the silence that followed would have been total if not for the fan and the measured breathing of the both of them. Two sets of eyes, blue and green searched, looking into the other for things neither of them were quite sure of. Vaas was the first to break away, letting his eyes roam over her body.

"Skin like yours." he began. "It burns so very easy in the sun eh? Why are you running around my kingdom half dressed chica? You have to take better care of yourself."

Erin shoved the sensation of his hand on her bare skin aside, doing her very best to ignore the heat that was spreading from his palm and into her core. "Well excuse the fuck out of me. When I dressed this morning I was thinking of swimming, not dealing with psycho dickheads who want to play Lost Boys."

Vaas chuckled. "Lost Boys, I like that...no I do." He took in her pale blue bikini top that was filled quite nicely with a set of tits he thought would fit his hand perfectly. He had the urge to reach out and cup one, but he didn't. Instead he let his eyes travel slowly down her body to the swell of her hips that peeked out above her shorts, then to the long toned legs that finished out her enticing form. Drawing his gaze back up to her face he paused, enjoying the fierce look in her blue eyes. They were the color of the sky over his kingdom and there wasn't a hint of fear in them. Her dark red hair, though styled short, fanned out around her head like a halo as she lay on his bed. That notion, that this woman was laying on his bed, it filled him with a swelling desire.

Erin didn't like the way he was looking at her. "Don't even think about it fucker." she hissed.

He stepped back and she forced herself not to squirm at the sudden cold sensation where his hand had been. Vaas settled back into the chair, taking up the cellphone again and began swiping through pictures on it.

"So Erin Walsh tell me something...enlighten me. How did you get to be such a tough bitch eh? Where you learn to fight like that?"

"How do you know my name?"

Without looking away from the phone Vaas reached over to the table beside him and then tossed a few cards onto the bed. Craning her head up and to the side Erin saw her drivers license and social security card, among a few others. Her head fell back onto the bed and she gave a huff.

"You went through my stuff." she accused with a sneer.

"Nope. I went though my stuff." Vaas corrected her.

Grinding her teeth she bit back a retort she was sure would have gotten her a good slapping. Instead she counted to ten...three times, then looked over at him and answered his question.

"I'm a bouncer. Sorta have to be tough in that line of work."

"Are you shitting me?" Vaas lowered the phone, a huge smile on his face. "You're a fucking bouncer? Wow...yeah now it makes sense. You pretty much turned Manuel's nuts into peanut butter."

Erin let a small grin show. "Fucker deserved it."

"So Erin Wash from New York...tell me what brings you to my island?" Vaas watched her intently now.

She turned her eyes to the ceiling. "Just a vacation." she said flatly.

"Tisk tisk Erin." he said with a little shake of his head. "See I do not believe you. No no no...you see...I know...I see things ok. I understand peoples. I can know them better than they know themselves ok. You can not lie to me chica." Here he turned her phone around for her to see the picture on the screen. It showed her, arm and in arm with a man. They were standing in front of a fountain. She was smiling as she held the phone aloft to take the picture even as the man was leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek.

Erin flicked her eyes at the phone and then away. Her arms tensed as she pulled against the cuffs and the wooden slats of the headboard groaned.

Vaas turned the phone back to himself. "See I find it very interesting that there are so so many of these pictures on your phone. You and this guy...together...all happy and smiling and playing Ken and Barbie eh. So very cute." Sticking his tongue out with a grin. "Then I find this one and I can not help but worry Erin...this one it gives me concern you know."

He swiped a few times and then finding the one he wanted, he turned the phone towards her again. When she cut her eyes over she saw herself, her best friend, and him. The bastard was in the center, with the two of them on either side of him. Her blonde friend and her were smiling big as she took the picture, while he was just standing there with his arms around the both of them. She didn't say anything, but her eyes told Vaas all he needed to know. They told him that he was right.

"I look at this and I think...wow such nice peoples...like, they really get along right." His finger came up to tap the screen, right on the guy in the center. "Then I look closer ok. I look right here and I see it. Do you see it Erin, eh?" She didn't answer him. "Yeah you see it now don't you? Now that you know the truth of things...you can see it now." Vaas turned the phone around and stared at the image. "The way he pulls her just a little closer than he does you. How her hand covers his on her hip. That little something that says to me...there is a happy couple, but Erin...chica...it is not you I am seeing in this couple...no no no...not you. Something has changed no? Something in this picture is very different from all the others. What could it be I asked myself. Then I saw it...I figured it out."

His finger tapped the screen. "This blonde bitch right here. She is what is the new thing. The problem, eh? Only she isn't new is she?" Swiping through more images on the phone he paused here and there. "Here she is with you and look...you are eating ice cream. How cute." Swipe. "This one I really like. The two of you dancing in a club together. This where you work?"

"Yes." That single word ground out through clenched teeth.

Swipe. "Then the two of you doing shots...same club I think. That is a lot of empty glasses Erin. You can hold your drink, eh? Nice." Swipe. "Look how happy you two are, eh? Like the best of friends...best fucking friends."

Vaas turned the phone towards her yet again, the image on the screen of Erin and the blonde hugging and laughing in a park. Erin's gaze was burning with anger now.

Vaas let his voice fall to a soothing whisper. "Tell me I am wrong...tell me that it was not this one and that guy who fucked you over. Tell me Erin...come on. Get this off your chest. Let it out."

She swallowed thickly, her throat aching and not just from being choked out. She was fighting back tears. How the fuck could this asshole just look at some pictures on her fucking phone and know something she'd been blind to for months? Had it been that damn obvious?

Vaas rose from the chair and approached the bed slowly. Erin watched him warily, her eyes bright with unshed tears. He leaned down, reaching over towards her cuffed wrist. She felt the cuff release with a metallic click. Moments later he had freed her other wrist as well. Tossing the key over his shoulder Vaas stood looking down on her as she rubbed her wrists.

"I am not your enemy." he said evenly. Then he lifted the phone and pointed at it. "These people...these assholes...they are your enemy, but...Erin you are not without blame. So sorry to say chica, but you let them do this to you."

She sat up, the anger finally breaking through. "How the fuck?" A single tear sliding down her cheek.

"Shh...Shh...is ok." Vaas crouched down beside the bed, almost level with her now. "Erin is ok...let me tell you something ok...let me open your eyes." Wagging the phone in the air. "These peoples...huh...what they did. It chased you all the way here. Half way around the world and into my kingdom. They sent you to me, eh. To me Erin." He tossed the phone over his shoulder to join the key. "You were foolish ok...a product of the world you knew...one of the sheep."

Erin's brows furrowed. Just what was he talking about?

"I can see it Erin...see the real you. She is waiting ok...in here." Pointing at her chest with a bandaged finger. "She wants out. See you let those peoples lie to you...to abuse your trust...to take something from you. Now you are here...this island, this place...it changes you Erin. I...will change you." He lifted the same finger as he warned her. "...but...you have to want it...to be stronger...better. Can you do that chica? Hmm? You gonna be a sheep or you wanna be a fucking tiger?" Locking eyes with her, Vaas tilted his head slightly. "Eat...or be eaten."

Erin sat with his words swirling inside her head. He was crazy. Bat shit loony no doubt about it. So then why was he making so much sense? "His name was Roger." she began hesitantly.

Vaas remained silent where he crouched, just looking into her eyes. Those green orbs were like a life line, giving her the strength to go on.

"I met him right out of high school. He was the total package. Looks, money, everything I could want. He made me feel complete. It was a fairy tale." She drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, looking away from Vaas and those too green eyes of his. "He owned the club. Wanted me behind the bar, but I wasn't for it. Never was a lady like my mom. Took after my dad. He used to break legs for the Maley's. Growing up I was his little ass kicker. If a boy bothered me dad never had to handle it because I did. He made sure I could handle myself. Made sure his little ass kicker was ready for the big bad world." She wiped the tear away then looked at the dampness on her palm. "So I convinced Roger to let me be a bouncer. At first he wasn't happy about it, but after I kicked a few asses he started to get off on it. Bragging that he was banging the toughest chick in New York." Sniffing she looked back to Vaas. "I actually thought that was kinda cool. What a fucking joke."

He gave a nod. "Go on Erin...there is more...there is always more." his voice that soothing whisper again.

"Sofia, the blonde in the photo. She was my best friend going all the way back to middle school. We did everything together. Got our braces together. Got our first boyfriends at the same time. I trusted her like she was my own sister."

Vaas twitched at the word sister, but said nothing.

Erin's face contorted with a mixture of anger and pain. "She ruined everything. She took him from me. That bastard...he...he just fell for her tricks. Sofia always could get any guy she wanted. She was fucking little miss perfect."

"No." Vaas cut her off, causing her eyes to widen a bit in surprise.

"No?" she asked softly.

Shaking his head slowly he explained. "No you are wrong. She did not take him from you. He was never yours...that is what you can not see Erin. Think about it." Pressing fingers to his temple. "Use your brain. If he was yours...with you...for you...she could not take him away. Understand that. It was not just her...no no no...it was not only them ok...it was you. Erin you let this happen. The moment...the very first moment they betrayed you...in that moment...Erin you should have put them in their place...shown them your strength. You didn't, eh? You let them scare you off. You ran. This was never a vacation...no, this was an excuse to avoid them. To run from your problems."

"I didn't know till it was too late." she almost whined. "I found them together in the office at the club. I wasn't supposed to be working that night, but I wanted to spend time with Roger...just be together you know."

Vaas nodded understandingly.

"I opened the door and there they were..." she trailed off, starting to shake with the memory of it. "She was sucking his dick right there on the couch and he was saying how she was the best he'd ever had...how _**she**_ was the best."

Vaas winced, giving a low whistle. "Ay chica...fuck." That had to hurt he thought.

Erin sniffled. "I should have broke her fucking face in." her voice a low growl. "I wanted to beat his ass all over his precious club." then she went quiet, the anger draining from her as her shoulders sagged.

"But you didn't...no you ran...you ran away...to me."

They locked eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him.

Vaas ran a hand down his face, clucking his tongue a few times in thought. Letting his head fall back so he could look at the ceiling he decided to give her a little truth of his own. "Because you impressed me ok...you fought back. The peoples in those cages, they beg, they cry, they bargain, but you...you didn't do that. No you Erin...you stood up...I saw that. I saw you for a little bit." Now he looked back at her, capturing her with his eyes. "The woman you should be. Not a sheep...a tiger. Ok I saw that. Peoples lie to themselves ok...they pretend the world is something it is not...they do not understand the ugly truth. Erin you are like that, but...but ok...but you can change. I see that. I see you. I want to set you free...to let you out."

"But...why?" she asked so softly her words almost didn't reach him.

"Because I know what it is like to believe a lie...I know...I understand you." he replied.

He reached out to her, placing a hand on either side of her face so she could not look away.

"Erin...I am not your enemy ok...no I am the only real friend you have in this world. You get that right?"

He seemed so earnest and she so wanted to believe him. So far he hadn't taken advantage of her. He'd given her a fighting chance before. In fact he really hadn't lied to her yet that she knew of. Was she just being foolish again? Wanting to believe somebody? Even somebody like the crazy man before her?

"You choked me out." she stated.

Vaas blinked. Then a slow grin spread over his lips. "You bit me."

"You always fight girls?" a tiny glint of mirth in her eyes.

"Bitch please." he scoffed. "I treated you like a fucking equal."

Lifting a hand she pressed him back with a finger on his chest so he wasn't touching her. "Fucker you kneed me in the chest. I think you bruised my tit."

The wicked smile Vaas gave sent shivers down her spine.

"You need me to take a look? Cause I can do that for you...a sign of good will and all that shit." waggling his brows.

Despite herself she laughed, but covered her mouth as soon as she did. "No thanks, I'm good."

Standing, Vaas looked down at her, then offered his hand.

"Yes Erin...you are good. We gonna make you better though...I will release you."

She looked at his hand, then up at those green eyes of his. Before she knew it she felt the warmth of his hand as it closed over her's and he helped her stand.

"Ok...Vaas." Testing his name on her tongue. "Let's see what you can do."

"I like that." he said. Then he lead her out of the room.

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Noore Najjar sat looking into the large mirror that dominated the vanity in her room. The woman she saw looking back at her was beautiful. She looked to be in her 30s, but in truth had recently turned 41. She was average in height, slender, with just the right touch of curves. Her long black hair was layered like raven's feathers to fall past her shoulders. She was garbed in the finest silks, adorned with jewelry, and above all else she cast an aura of control. She looked like the sort of woman who had things well in hand.

Only she didn't. Not at all. The woman in the mirror was a lie. A fabrication that she and the man who had ruined her life had created. A thing to appease the masses of Kyrat. To entertain and to slaughter. To poison people with drugs and enslave their souls. That woman was nothing more than a puppet whose strings were pulled by a man so vile, so despised, that the very idea that he drew breath made her stomach churn. Yet for all the hatred she bore that man, she hated herself more. She was beyond inhuman. She was a monster.

In a fit of disgust she started snatching the jewelry off and flinging it around the cabin. The precious items pinged off the walls and floor. Rings, then necklaces, some of which she snapped from her throat. She didn't care that she was destroying thousands of dollars worth of artisan work. These golden trinkets were chains to her. They enslaved her. She was a bit more careful with the earrings, but not by much. She wanted all of it off her, right now. Finally all that was left was the nose ring that sparkled in the light. This she touched softly and left alone. It had been a gift from her husband. She would never part with it. Never.

A knock at the door drew her attention.

"What?" her voice stern.

From the other side of the door a man spoke. "King Min will see you now."

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Fine. I'll be there shortly."

King Min, ha! She wanted to laugh. He was no longer a king, just a waste of air that trotted around as if he mattered. Sliding a hand inside the sash that ran from her left shoulder to her hip, she touched the dagger hidden there. Soon Pagan Min wouldn't matter at all.

She rose from the vanity and exited the cabin. As she walked along the corridors of the ship her thoughts were on the task ahead. She'd made her peace and knew today her life would end. She was going to kill Pagan Min and then no doubt die at the hands of his men. It would be worth it, so very worth it indeed.

Before long she stood at the door to Pagan's office. This insignificant barrier of wood was all the separated her from her fate. From her revenge. Lifting a slender hand she knocked just once.

"Do come in." came the pleasant voice of the one person she hated nearly as much as herself. Clasping the handle she took a breath to steady herself, then opened the door.

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Earlier...

Pagan Min sat at his desk, a map of the Southern island spread out before him. Now and then he would make a notation or a mark with a pen, his mind working over what was to come. There was an almost child like glee to him as he went about it. Yes it had been far too long since he had been out on his own, getting his hands dirty so to speak. He was truly looking forward to seeing if he still had what it took. The prospects were delightful to say the least. Then his thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Setting the pen aside he leaned back in his chair. "Enter."

The door opened and one of his men, a soldier who had followed him from Kyrat, stepped in with a salute. "King Min."

Clucking his tongue dismissively, Pagan corrected him. "I'm no longer a king. Your loyalty is appreciated, make no mistake, but let us drop the royal moniker shall we? Just show me the proper respect is all I ask." Lacing his fingers together, then touching them to his chin he asked, "I assume you've brought her yes?"

The soldier nodded. "Yes King...I mean yes sir." Hoping his slip up would not anger the man he'd pledged his life to. Seeing Min's smile he felt relief wash over him.

"Well then by all means show her in. We shouldn't make a lady wait now should we?"

"Of course sir." Stepping aside the soldier motioned for the person in the hall to enter the office.

A young girl walked stiffly into the room. At first glance she seemed like any other girl from Kyrat. Dark skinned, hinting at a golden hue with her hair up in a messy gathering at the back of her head. A dull brown shirt of simple stitching and jeans with the legs rolled up to adhere to her short frame. A pair of old sneakers adorned her tiny feet and gave her an all around mousy aspect. However her face and bearing challenged that very notion. She was for lack of a better word, angelic in spite of her poor attire. A soft face that promised great beauty once she came of age and eyes the color of weathered jade. Those light green eyes took everything in at a glance before settling on the man behind the desk. The one she knew as the single source of the misery and terror that dominated her country. Tales of his evil had filled her ears for the entirety of her life, painting a picture of a man that must be a devil incarnate. Something akin to the Rakshasa, demons of myth and lore. However the man sitting behind the desk did not give her that impression. He was no demonic thing, just a man. An odd looking old man garbed in a gold dress shirt with his frosted white hair flopping over his right eye, the sides of his head shaved. He had wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and his skin seemed just the tiniest bit stretched over his face. When he smiled she understood, that smile with its almost too charming welcome must truly tax him. That or he just smiled so much that it was taking its toll on his face. Either way she was not feeling welcomed, nor was she afraid. She was simply here, her choice in the matter had never factored into the equation.

Pagan stood, smoothing out his dress shirt, then waved the soldier away. Once he was alone in the room with the girl he stepped around the desk and then leaned back against it, bracing his hands on its edge. A few quiet seconds stretched by and then the girl spoke.

"You are Pagan Min." her tone level, almost robotic.

"Indeed." he smiled. "...and you are Bhadra, the Tarun Matara, or rather you would have been."

She nodded. "Yes."

Pagan chuckled just a little. "You know you are not what I expected at all. I mean here you are, just a little girl, destined to be a goddess and yet you find yourself snatched away from that life and plopped into the slave pits of Shanath. I dare say you are holding up quite well considering your age. Most in your situation would have been a wailing mess I can assure you. Full grown men have sobbed themselves to sleep in such a place."

Bhadra stood, thinking his words over before she spoke. "There was no point in such things. I had no control over it. I could only wait to see what was to come. I can only decide on my actions once I know my options." blinking slowly she went on. "To be honest you are not what I expected either."

"Oh? Please enlighten me." Let's see what she says he thought.

"You are not scary." she flatly stated.

Well that was pretty high on his list of things he didn't expect. The laugh that came from him was genuine and he found himself liking her honesty. Pushing away from the desk he moved to stand before her, looking down on her diminutive stature with a smile.

"I assure you my dear I can be quite the scary fellow if need be. However I do hope that while you and I get to know each other that won't be necessary." he crouched down so they could see eye to eye. She really was a little thing after all. Couldn't even be five foot if he had to guess. A few inches shy no doubt. If his information was right she should be 14 at the most. His sources were usually spot on so he had little reason to doubt them.

To her credit Bhadra didn't flinch away from the man that had held the entire country of Kyrat in a grip of terror for decades. "I do not think it will. I am not a threat to you."

He patted her head, her dark brown hair thick and soft under his fingers. "Not now, but in the past you were a very great threat indeed. As the Tarun Matara you would have held claim to rule Kyrat, to usurp my throne."

Even at his touch she did nothing. It was as if she were apart from him, from everything around her in fact. Something that did not go unnoticed by the former king of Kyrat. Pagan had no doubt as to why the girl acted as she did. He was well versed in the conditioning the young girls chosen as the Tarun Matara went through. The years of instruction that shaped them into little more than glorified breeding sows for a religion steeped in antiquated ways and all for the maniacal faith that plagued Kyrat even to this day despite his best efforts to crush it out of existence. Pagan's heart went out to this girl, so young and so broken by the very people she trusted. Much like Ishwari had been before her eyes had opened to the truth of things. Before she had come into his life and changed him...before it all went so wrong.

"That was true once, but now I am nothing to you." for the first time she showed some emotion, her eyes falling to the floor as her voice trembled ever so slightly. "I am nothing at all."

"Now now don't talk like that." he chided.

When she looked up at him her eyes were bright with the threat of tears, but she did not let them fall. "All my life, as long as I can remember, I was to become the Tarun Matara. I was to be a beacon to the people of Kyrat. To make things better. It was all I knew. My every waking hour spent learning the rituals, studying the old scrolls, meditating on my place in the world and the heavens. I knew nothing else. I was good for nothing else. Now I am here. Not Kyrat...here. Amita...she..." her voice failed her.

Standing, Pagan moved beside the girl, placing a hand on her back and guiding her over to several chairs and a table adorned with an arrangement of flowers.

"It's alright. Here let's sit down and make ourselves comfy hmm. Yes that's it." as they booth took seats in different chairs.

Bhadra sat dejectedly, her small shoulders slumped as the weight of her place in the world bore down on her, or lack of it she thought. "Amita told me..that, that I had to be removed. That I was too much of a threat to the cause. To the Golden Path. I do not understand that. How could I be a threat to them? I thought I was going to help." A little hiccup escaped from her.

Pagan crossed his legs, hands resting on the arms of the over stuffed leather chair he sat in. "That is quite simple to understand actually."

His words prompting her to look to him for clarification.

He explained, "Amita saw you as a threat to her cause, not the Golden Path's. You see my dear, Amita is a visionary. A woman who has grand plans for Kyrat once the war is over. She isn't a traditionalist like Sabal. Yes they may have lead the Golden Path together, but they were worlds apart in regards to what they thought the future of Kyrat should be. I've no doubt that it was Sabal who made sure you were instructed in the ways of the Tarun Matara. Making sure your pretty little head was filled to the brim with the old ways." he pointed a single finger towards her without lifting his hand from where it rested. "Yes he had plans for you Bhadra, some of which you may not have found to your liking I can assure you."

"Yes it was Sabal who found teachers for me so that I could prepare myself to ascend and take my place as Tarun Matara." she agreed with a nod.

"Well imagine how Amita felt about that." his words oozing contempt.

"I know she did not agree with everything Sabal wanted of me." Bhadra admitted readily. "Learning the history and practicing the rites gave her little worry, but the...other things...those she did not like at all. She said it was barbaric. Out dated."

Pagan nodded, fully aware of what the girl meant. Ishwari had told him everything in their time together. It wasn't something new to him, the abuse of the young. After all children often went for the highest price on the open market of the depraved. In his days he himself had made more than a tidy profit from such endeavors. However it was hearing the words from the lips of the woman he'd come to love, the same woman that would give him a daughter, that was what had brought everything into focus. The twisted indoctrination that was the Tarun Matara had become something that now sickened him. It was, he admitted to himself a chink in his otherwise perfect armor of remorseless cruelty, when he chose to don it.

"I can imagine she would be upset." he spoke softly now, not wanting to upset the girl. "I know what they did. How they prepared you for what was to come. How to please men so that you could give them children. A way for the priests to claim a hold to divinity through the Tarun Matara. A child born from a goddess and their seed. I know that they dressed the teachings in tradition and spoke of how important it was, that as the Tarun Matra it was your duty to give yourself to the people in every way, but I assure you it was little more than an attempt to give justification to turning an innocent girl into their whore. Nothing more." the venom in his words coming through in the end.

Despite what he had said, Bhadra was not mad, nor was she upset. Rather she sat there, now back in control of herself. Just looking at him with her light green eyes calmly. Her voice when she spoke was neutral. "Giving myself to the holy men was something I learned early on. I know that to others it would be unsettling to even consider it, well to those not of Kyrat that is. People like you, who did not grow up with our customs must think it horrible to place such a task on a girl's shoulders. I know that. I know how it must look from the outside, but it is all I have ever known. All I have ever had. Being the Tarun Matara is all I was meant for. So yes I was taught how to lay with a man. I know all the techniques that have been employed for centuries. I have studied the old writings and been instructed by those with knowledge of them as well. Even though I am still pure and untouched I have been shown by example how each and every one of my lessons should be applied." Here she looked at him with a serene visage, one that gave him pause in how grown up she suddenly seemed despite her age and stature.

"Understand that I know you must think I am broken, damaged in some way because of how I was raised, but I am not. I have only this one life and so without another to compare it to I can not feel as though I have been used, that I have been tarnished. To me I was only preparing to take my place in the world. To make a difference for the people of Kyrat. It was an honor, one that now has been taken from me."

Her words sank in and he had to admit when put that way, well the girl had a point. One couldn't twist what was meant to be twisted after all. Kyrat and its damn religion could burn to the ground for all he cared. Suddenly he made a mental note to call and see how Ajay was doing. The poor boy must have his hands full with not only Kyrat and the Golden Path, but Yuma as well. She had made it quite clear how she felt about staying behind to help Ajay settle in. Yes he would have to call him very soon, however back to the matter at hand.

"Well I want you to know that I fully understand" Shifting forward so he could rest his elbows in his knees he held her gaze. "I won't judge you or look down on you, though I won't say I agree with the whole notion of the Tarun Matara. as I'm sure you know my feelings on the entire religion altogether. Though I will say that Amita's reason for sending you away is all too simple."

When Bhadra tilted her head in question he went on.

"Well she can't very well have the Tarun Matara sitting in power when she wants to bring down the dominantly male driven aspects of Kyrat's government and religion. I mean you literally were the living embodiment of everything she was fighting to change. A woman who existed only to be used, divinity aside, little more than a golden symbol of submission to men. Had Sabal succeeded in placing you in power as the Tarun Matara everything Amita wanted to change in Kyrat would have been for naught. Yes she needed you gone, but she couldn't just kill you. That would have turned the Golden Path against her. You were just too important a person to keep that a secret. No, sooner or later she'd have been found out. Now sending you away, that is a different story. No doubt she had you surrounded with armed guards, on your way to some place safe, or so she assured you."

Bhadra nodded, it was almost as if the man had been there that day, but how could he have known?

Seeing the touch of surprise in her eyes he smirked. "Oh yes I am very good at finding things out my dear. So let me guess, you and your guards were set upon by my soldiers. A brief skirmish ensued and you found yourself in the slave pits of Shanath, that is until our good lady Noore spotted you and knew how valuable you were."

Bhadra nodded again. "Yes she took me out of there. She said I did not belong in such a place. Now I am here on this ship."

Lifting a hand to study his nails, Pagan casually threw out his next words. "What would you say if I told you that my soldiers running across your little escort was no mere coincidence? Hmm? Just for a moment let us pretend that Amita had arranged it, even as far fetched as that sounds." His eyes returned to the little would be goddess as he went on. "What if your dear Amita in fact made arrangements to hand you over to my men, with the requirement that no witnesses be left alive."

"She...would not do that." Bhadra balked at his words.

"Ah, but we are pretending my dear Bhadra. Don't forget that. This is all just for fun."

She shook her head just a little. "I do not find this fun."

Pursing his lips, Pagan took on a contrite look. "I suppose not. Sorting out the ugly truth about people close to you often isn't. However I simply can't accept that you aren't clever enough to have figured all this out for yourself by now. You carry yourself with a keen sense of understanding my girl. Wise beyond your years I dare say." Here he rested back in his chair, steepled his fingers and pressed them under his chin as he watched her. "Tell me I'm wrong."

She opened her mouth, ready to continue to deny the truth that she had pieced together while sitting in that dark place before Noore had extended a hand, taking her away from the filth and human refuse. However she saw no reason to waste words against what was so obvious. Instead she sighed softly. "Yes I know. It was only the smallest of stubbornness on my part that did not want to believe that Amita would do that to me. After everything she'd done for me up to that moment I did not want to accept it." Her soft lips gave into a little pout, her brows furrowed. "It upsets me that I still want to believe she did not do it, though I know fully that she did."

He was fascinated by just how well she was able to accept and adapt to what had happened to her. This girl would have been a force to be reckoned with in another life, given a different path to take. Then again it was this life that had shaped her into the person she was so perhaps it was all for the best, or at the least the best it could be. He decided to give her a bit of hope to lighten the mood.

"Fortune smiles on you my dear." he said happily.

"It does?" she asked, looking at him with curious eyes.

"Oh yes indeed it does. You just wait. I have such good news for you."

A single knock from the door drew both their attention. Pagan stood from his chair, motioning for Bhadra to remain seated. After all he wasn't exactly sure how his next guest would react upon seeing him and he didn't want the girl caught up in things if they turned violent.

"Do come in." he said pleasantly.

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Now...

The door opened and for Noore Najjar the world constricted to a single point, which was that all too smug smile on Pagan Min's face. Everything in her life that lay in ruins was his fault. The deaths of her husband and children. The blood that her soul lay awash in from the countless people she'd sent to their deaths for the entertainment of those drawn to the Shanath Arena. Everything began and ended with the man standing so casually right in front of her.

Her hand drew the dagger from its hiding place and something akin to a feral scream tore its way free from her lips, then a single word.

"DIE!"

She launched herself at the bane of her life, dagger descending with all the strength she could bring to bear.

Pagan's smile shifted to a little smirk and then he had her. Noore raged against it, but nothing she did would drive the dagger any closer to him. He held her wrist in a grip that was stronger than she'd have expected, thus preventing the tip of the blade from even touching the expensive gold dress shirt he wore. It just wasn't fair she thought. This was supposed to be her moment. Her time of vengeance. Their eyes met and she saw in the dark depths of his that he was enjoying this. He was amused. Amused!

Her own eyes wild she spat in his face. "Burn in Hell you monster!"

He closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath. As he did this, his free hand rose so that he could swipe the back of it across his face, cleaning away her spittle as best he could for the moment. With that done he opened his eyes and glared at her with a shuddering anger.

"Now that was rude." his voice barely a whisper, but it filled the room as no shout could with the threat of violence. The guard who had escorted Noore to the room stood gawking, gun at the ready. Seeing him just standing there, Pagan lifted his free hand, snapping his fingers. "You."

When the guard seemed a little slow on the uptake the former king barked an order. "Yes you. Get out...NOW!"

The man moved so fast it was as if he'd never been there at all, leaving the door to shut behind him with a sound of utter finality to Noore's ears.

Where she sat, Bhadra could only watch in stunned silence. It had all happened so fast and the girl could not even form a thought of what to do or say before Pagan twisted around, taking Noore with him so that he could slam her down on the large desk, pressing her face into the dark wood with one hand on the back of her head. His other now held the dagger, its needle sharp point hovering over her eye as she tried in vain to break free.

"First things first..." he began in a conversational tone, as if speaking of the weather. "...Face, throat, or chest. Not the shoulder as you were so blindly about to stab me in. Face, throat, or chest. If you want the best results those are the preferred targets. Also don't waste your time with the gut unless you have the strength to really twist the blade around in there, really tear shit up, no pun intended of course."

His breath against the back of her neck made her skin crawl. How could she have failed so miserably? This was her one and only shot.

"Now as to the next part, well my dear I'm afraid this may get a bit messy." trailing the point of the dagger along her cheek as he spoke. A wicked gleam in his eyes.

A small voice called out, "Please Mr Min don't hurt her!"

Noore's eyes were drawn to the owner of that voice and shock didn't do justice to what she felt. The girl was here! What in all the heavens was she doing here of all places?

"B-Bhadra?" Noore's voice wavering with fear for the girl now.

With a long drawn out sigh, purely for dramatic effect, Pagan stepped away from the desk and let his captive go. Though he kept a firm hold on the dagger. "Well now you've gone and done it Noore. See, you've upset poor Bhadra." clucking his tongue reproachfully. "We were having such a nice talk before you ruined things too."

Tucking his hands behind his back, dagger included, Pagan turned to Bhadra and leaned forward a bit, offering her a rueful smile. "I'm ever so sorry my dear. The blame must fall on me as your host. Please understand that Ms Najjar was only acting out of what must be a hellish burden I assure you." Bringing one hand around so he could scratch the side of his nose he sighed for real now. "You see I've put her through quite a lot, well to be honest as far as she's concerned I deserve a painful death the likes of which would no doubt be on a biblical scale. Deservedly so too I might add." He couldn't help the devilish quality his smile took on. "I have been a naughty little shit you see."

At the desk Noore rose slowly, rubbing her wrist, tears sliding down her cheeks. "You're a bastard." she seethed.

Instantly the dagger came out again as Pagan pointed it at her, waggling it as a teacher might a ruler towards an unruly student. "Ye without sin cast the first stone or so they say, hmm...am I right?"

His words had the effect he wanted as she cast her face down in shame. The years of her own work in the arena came crashing down on her spirit, crushing it. She sank down to her knees with a sob, covering her face with her hands.

"Oh for the love of...Bhadra would you be ever so kind as to help her to one of the chairs?" he asked, waving the dagger between them. "I'd do it, but something tells me that wouldn't be a good idea."

Nodding the girl moved towards the sobbing woman, her small hands reaching out to move in slow circles on the older woman's back, hoping to soothe her. "Come on." she said quietly while leaning down at Noore's ear.

The woman looked up, eyes red with tears. How could this girl be so calm with him here? Surely after what had just happened she should at least be a little frightened, but looking into the young girl's eyes she found only a calm patience, as if there was nothing else in all the world that mattered now, but waiting for her to stand and go take a seat. It was unnerving.

"Come on." Bhadra said again, a little louder. "The chairs are not that far and much softer than the floor."

In something akin to a fugue state, Noore rose and allowed the girl to lead her to a large leather chair. Once she sat down she found it was indeed much softer than the floor. After she was seated, Bhadra moved back to her own chair and plopped down as if everything were right as rain. Before she realized it, Noore was laughing. Not mirthful peals, but the sort of haphazard giggle fit of the insane. She'd lost, again. Lost to that evil man and she seemed to be the only one who could see him for what he was. Even the vaunted Tarun Matara to be was merely sitting in the man's office and looking at her, the girl was looking right at her of all people, with curiosity, and not Pagan Min. Meanwhile, the Devil himself strode over and took one of the other chairs for himself. Was she the last sane person alive? Her laughter threatened to turn to sobs.

Pagan cut in, the dagger making slow circles over his head as he waved it around. " Oh come now let's not start that again." rolling his eyes. "I get it. I'm truly evil and you want me dead, but you had your chance and now all is lost. Yes, yes I get it." Pointing the dagger at Bhadra now. "She get's it. We all get it. Can we please move on?"

Wiping her eyes with both hands, Noore sniffled a few more times and then drew herself up straight in the chair, the palms of her hands catching the last of her tears as she affixed a mask of control over her frayed nerves. "Why not, let's all just move on." she said with a bit of a sneer towards the man who now sat picking his nails with her dagger.

"Ah, good good. I was hoping we could get to the reason we're all here." he looked from one of them, then to the other, a tiny smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"...and just what is that?" Noore asked with no small amount of hesitation.

Nothing could have prepared her for what he said next.

"Why, I'm going to set you free of course."

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Author's Note

Yes I know this update is long over due. I can't tell you how sorry I am for that. I won't give you excuses, but I will tell you that I've been working on some things and you can expect a new story or two to pop up on my profile. Never fear however, this story is NOT going to go anywhere. I love it and I have so very much planned for it. As for the other stories, well expect to see a Batman story centered around Harley Quinn and other familiar faces, but with a very fresh take on good ole Gotham city. I'll be working on that with my lovely wife socoangel, she and I are writing it together. I'm very excited about it! I myself have the stirrings of a Kick-Ass story in the works so that could be around the corner as well. Hmm...What else? Pagan did say he needed to check up on how Ajay was doing in Kyrat. Spin off story perhaps? I mean, would anybody care to see what Ajay and Yuma are up? Assuming they haven't killed each other that is. lol

Well I think that's it for now. Again so very sorry it took so long to update and I hope you enjoyed it. Next time we'll see if Jason was able to teach Rika anything about hunting. heh


	15. It can always get worse

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Hi there. If my experiment worked, then I have traveled forward in time to update this story. Yes that's what happened and I have not in fact been neglecting this story. Yep that's what happened.

None of you are buying that huh? Ok so yes this story has gone too long without an update and I'm not going to offer any excuses. I'll do my best to work on that. Sorry.

So before you start reading I want to take a moment to address something a few people have messaged me about. Mainly why do I describe Jason Brody like he's build like a comic book character. Well frankly it's because he is. Back when I started writing this story I did a lot of research into everything I was going to use. Jason Brody was listed at being 6'2'' and weighing around 190 lbs. Now that is NOT a small guy despite what the game's art and actual in game cutscenes might have you believe. Keep in mind that while playing the game we only see through Jason's eyes, never what the other characters see of him. Also keep in mind that Jason's stats were for him BEFORE coming to Rook Island. He was a very athletic person who enjoyed mountain climbing, snowboarding, parachuting, just about every daredevil sport or adventure out there. Willis even notes this in the in game information section. So take a guy Jason's size and cast him into the adventure we have here. I have him sitting at around 220 lbs now, with all of it muscle. Also I've stretched the time on the island into more than a year. It works for my story and seems realistic considering everything he went through in the game. In other words I'm giving Jason time to grow into the killing machine that he is, rather than just do like the game did and pop a tat on him and give him a knife and say go forth great warrior. lol

Jason has lived off a diet of violence and high protein animal meat, with a good mix of plants and other things nobody has any idea about. I mean what was in that shit Citra gave him to drink? So you can imagine his body has not only been trimmed up, but buffed up as well. Constant physical activities combined with such a diet would turn him into a beast. Top that off with the mystical gifts he's gained and you can see where I'm coming from. I mean in the game the guy was flipping vehicles over and surviving falls that should kill the Terminator...and don't even get me started on how much of a bullet sponge he was. Now I'm not saying that in my story he's going to be as hard to deal with as his video game self, but he will be one tough bastard. I just thought it was time I addressed this question. If you have any more feel free to message me.

Thanks to anybody who stuck around waiting for me to update this story. I hope to make it up to you in the future.

Oh and guys...how brutal, dark and taboo do you want this story to get? Asking for a friend!

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Jason crouched amid the dense undergrowth of the jungle and watched the deer as it grazed on the lush grass that grew knee high in the clearing. The air was sweltering, plastering his shirt to his body with sweat. His hair was dark and damp from it, the stuff trickled down his face, and it was an effort not to wipe it from his eyes. Yet he dared not move or his prey would bolt. The deer was already on alert, having lifted its head several times to scan the area. Jason has not moved an inch since sneaking this close and that had been who knows how long ago. Time was an abstract concept when he was in the zone, be it hunting animals or people, it ceased to matter to him. Everything was the target, the kill to come.

The deer snapped its head up, nostrils flaring as it took in the scents around it. Being downwind, Jason knew that he was in no danger of being sniffed out, still though he tensed, ready to make his move.

Eventually the deer lowered its head and began clipping the dark green grass with its teeth. Jason gripped the machete in his right hand. It was going to be a long throw, but he was sure he could do it. Hell he'd made longer ones after all and against pirates with machine guns. This was just a deer in a clearing. Easy pickings.

A drop of sweat ran down his nose to dangle off its tip. The urge to wipe it away was excruciating. Now or never he thought as he slowly drew his arm back, ready for the throw.

The deer went rigid, its head whipping back and forth before it darted off. It didn't get far before it collapsed at the edge of the clearing. Sticking out of its side was a single arrow that had pierced its heart.

Relaxing, Jason lowered his head, wiping a hand down his face. "Son of a bitch." he griped to himself.

A melodic trill of laughter filled the air. "Too slow again."

Standing from his hiding place he moved from the brush and into the clearing proper. Stowing the machete on his back before stretching his stiff muscles.

"Yeah yeah, you win." he offered to the hidden archer, frowning slightly as he approached the deer. "Again." he added in a quieter tone.

From her vantage point high in a tree, Rika watched Jason with a smug little smile on her lips. In her left hand her bow rested against her thigh, her other hand braced against the tree for balance. Up this high she was afforded not only the full view of the entire clearing, but a gentle breeze cooled her skin. Unlike Jason she wasn't soaked in sweat, instead her tanned skin was aglow with a glistening sheen. Her long black hair in its high pony tail moved gently against her back as the breeze toyed with it. She carried no extra arrows. Her father had taught her that you rarely got more than one chance where life and death were concerned. When hunting an animal or being attacked by one, if you missed that was it. No food or no life. So she knew how to make every shot count.

Jason was very good at hunting, of that she had no doubt. Rika had known he was in the clearing, but not where. Even with all her skill she had not been able to detect him. Still she had held the advantage with her bow. Jason had only his blade or guns and he didn't want to attract attention with the latter. That meant he would have to get close in order to take down the deer, while she could strike from afar.

He never had a chance. She smiled all the more.

"Ok kid come on out!" Jason called into the air.

She narrowed her eyes. When was he going to get it through his pig brain that she was not a child? She was a strong hunter, had been taking care of herself for a long time now, and besides she was more than grown up as far as the people of Rook Island were concerned. Jason Brody should start treating her with more respect. He was living in her home after all. It made her irrationally angry that he still did not see her as more than a child.

She watched him crouch by the deer, her eyes drawn to the expanse of his back. The blue tank top he wore was dark with his sweat and left nothing to the imagination. Every one of the muscles of his back stood out clearly as he moved. Rippling beneath the second skin of his shirt in ways that captivated her and caused her breath to come in little huffs past her parted lips. He was impressive she had to admit, even as she wondered exactly what that meant to her. Yes he was larger than the men of the island and packed thick with muscle, but he moved with a grace that went against that. When Jason wanted to be quiet the very air seemed to steal away his steps. Despite his size he could vanish in an instant even in an open field. It was as if the jungle itself wrapped him in its arms and held him close to its heart. He was as much as part of the wild as any animal. Yet for all that he still seemed a stranger to it as well. A man struggling to find his place.

Perhaps that was why Rika found herself watching him as often as she had these past days. She felt his struggle and though she wanted to help him, she had no means of knowing how to do that.

Below in the clearing, Jason was tempted to remove the arrow, but he didn't. After the first hunt with Rika he knew better now. Apparently it was bad luck for anybody to remove a hunter's arrow but the hunter themselves. So he would wait for her to show up and get it out.

Looking around the clearing he still didn't see her. This was the third day of hunting with her and so far he'd struck out every time. Three days, three hunts, three kills and he was zero for three. Talk about being put in his place! She was like a freaking shadow. He could catch her scent every now and then, even the sound of her moving from one place to another, but sooner or later she'd just fade away and he'd be left wondering just where in the hell she was. Running around on those little bare feet of hers she was like a damn monkey the way she could climb.

Aha! That was it he thought. She must be up in a tree, but just which one though?

Standing slowly he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, opening himself to the jungle that surrounded the clearing. He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, but he knew it would help him find what he was looking for. It was something he'd been doing for a long time since coming to this god damn island, but it had only been since going on these hunts with Rika that he had become aware of this little trick of sorts.

Rika saw him stand and instantly went so still she may as well have been part of the tree. He was doing that thing again. She didn't know how he did it, but every time it was like he could just know where she was. That was cheating!

Jason felt the air moving across his skin like so many silk strands draped over him. It was like he suddenly became aware of everything. The insects buzzing and crawling. The animals just out of sight who were just as aware of him right now. The ground beneath his boots that was filled with as much life as the jungle itself. The sky above that was heavy with the threat of more rain. The distant low rumble of the very storm that would bring that rain. Even the trees swaying gently, leaves and branches sliding together to create a soothing sigh from nature itself. He was part of it all and yet he was still himself. This was alien and familiar all at once.

A tiny sound tickled his ear. It was soft and existed only for a moment at a time. Slow and measured, perfectly at ease. A rhythmic flow in and out with but one purpose. That being to draw life giving air into Rika's lungs. He could hear her now. Before she had been hidden from him, but now he could not ignore her even if he wanted to. With his senses sharpened like this, Jason could not only hear her soft breaths, but smell her scent. It was uniquely her. A combination of sunlight and the sea where they had kissed her skin. The flowers that had lent her hair their fragrance. Even her eyes were known to him now. Those amber gems so pale they seemed to glow when set against her dark skin. Yes he could feel those eyes of hers as they looked upon him.

Turning slowly he opened his pale green eyes and locked gazes with her from across the clearing.

Rika's breath caught in her throat. It was like she actually felt him reach out and touch her with his focused attention just then. If she hadn't been braced against the tree she might have toppled. How could he do that?

Jason saw the way her eyes narrowed in agitation and a cocky grin pulled one corner of his lips up. He motioned for her to come to him with a crooked finger. More than a little put out for being found again despite her best efforts, Rika slung her bow over her shoulder and descended the tree so easily that she seemed to just flow down it.

As she padded towards him on bare feet she refused to meet his gaze. He was being a pig brain as always.

"Are you sure you're not part monkey?" he asked her once she was close enough.

"Do I look like a monkey Jason Brody?" she hissed before crouching by the deer, taking her knife in hand.

His confident chuckle did little to sooth her suddenly foul mood. How could he so easily get under her skin she wondered? She did not have a temper. In fact she was a very cheerful person if you asked anyone who knew her. Besides it was not as if she disliked Jason. Quite the opposite in fact. She had been enthralled by the stories of Snow White and having met the man himself, she saw now that there may in fact be truth to those stories. Still though, it was like he knew some magical secret to pissing her off. Thinking on it now only made her realize that they were both equally skilled in this regard for she could draw out his ire with the slightest effort. It was a daring game of who would over step first. One that often lead to hurt feelings and halfhearted apologies. It had been this way from the very start between them, but these past days had made it all the more obvious. Well to her at least.

Turning her attention to the task at hand, she began to cut the arrow out of the deer, careful not to nick the shaft lest she was forced to craft another. She still didn't know if the arrow was damaged further in, but in a little bit she would for sure. While she went about her work she did her best to ignore the tall man that stood behind her. This had become their unspoken after hunt ritual. She handling the kill while he kept watch for any predators that might have been attracted by the smell of blood.

After making a sweep of the treeline with his eyes, Jason turned his attention back to Rika as she worked on the deer. Her movements were smooth and quick. It was clear she had been taught well. In no time at all she had the arrow freed and was inspecting it. Setting it aside she began to field dress the kill. The way she handled her knife was like a surgeon. Every cut precise, each movement perfectly aligned with the next. It was like the deer had lines only she could see drawn on it, telling her exactly where her blade needed to do its slicing. In a civilized world watching her at work would have been horrifying, but here in this place it was beautiful in a strange fashion.

He watched her long pony tail as it bobbed to and fro. Her hair was so black it seemed to shine in the sun with its luster. The long strands as straight and sure as her aim and if freed would fall well past her waist. Despite her slender frame she was strong for her size and could handle herself well if how she hunted was any indication. He had to admit that he was starting to change his mind about her being a helpless kid. She was born and bred in this hell hole and that meant she had to be tough in order to survive it. Unlike him, Rika had grown up here. Where he saw a nightmare she saw home.

His eyes moved down, past her bare shoulders and the thin straps of her shirt, to the skin of her lower back that was exposed where the thin material came up short. Along the way he noticed the wrappings again. He'd been aware of them since the second hunt when he'd managed to sneak up on her in a thicket. How he hadn't seen them before he had no idea. She was wrapped from her chest to just above her navel, but he didn't know why. If she was hurt she didn't show it at all. Not in the way she moved that was for sure. He'd been meaning to ask her about it, but they always seemed to end up arguing so he hadn't gotten around to it.

Drifting much like his thoughts, his gaze dropped further to the denim shorts she wore that were cut so high that her outer thighs were exposed nearly to the beltline. They were some knock off brand and looked to be well worn, in fact she wouldn't even fit into them given a few more months he'd wager. They were so tight now that he wondered how she didn't lose circulation sometimes. Hell so much of her ass was showing that he knew she wasn't wearing any panties. The frayed edge of the denim fit snugly to the curve of each tanned cheek.

Hold the fuck up!

Jason looked up and away, furious with himself. Jesus she's a fucking kid he screamed at himself inside his own head. What the hell was wrong with him?

"I gotta piss." he all but barked as he stomped away, making more noise than was necessary.

Rika paused, her fingers bloody, knife poised for the next slice. Looking over her shoulder she wondered what had upset him this time? This trip had been his idea, but the closer they got to their destination the worse his moods were. Three days by jeep and they were almost to the expanse of beaches and shallow pools that separated where that doctor man's house was and the rest of the Northern island. Jason wanted to find his friends and he'd told her he had a pretty good idea where they might be. So then why was he acting like he didn't want to get there? It made little sense to her.

Watching him walk into the treeline she sighed. Taking care of a pig brained man child was such a bother.

Jason went a few yards into the jungle, far enough that he was sure Rika couldn't see him, but not so far he couldn't get back to her if anything happened to come up.

 _"Oh I'd say something has come up alright Jace my boy._ " came a mirthful taunt from Buck.

"Fuck off." Jason spat at him. He so did not want to deal with Buck and his shit right now.

The specter leaned against a palm tree with a smile plastered all over his face. _"Temper, temper my dear."_

A growl made its way up Jason's throat and settled low in the air. He didn't like this at all. He felt sick to his stomach with himself right now. The fact he was hard as a rock only made it twice as bad. He knew he was a monster, but this was just sick. He began pacing, his hands clenching over and over at his sides. He needed to get the image of Rika's ass out of his head. Why the hell was he even noticing shit like that anyway? He wasn't a freak like that at all. He wasn't into shit like that. It was this damn island. It fucked with everything about him. Drove him crazy and left his soul broken. That had to be it. First he man handles her back at her place, throwing her to the ground, now he's sizing up her ass while she guts a dear. Fuck if that wasn't twisted! He just needed to calm down, get control of...whatever the fuck was going on, and that would be that.

Buck followed Jason with his eyes, never losing his smile. _"Course that's it Jason. This place will fuck a mind right over. A right shit show if you ask me, that's what it is. Plays tricks on ya, eh? I mean it's not like you would ever want to get a handful of that tight little ass am I right? Nah course not. Not you my boy. Why you're a perfect gentleman as it were, yeah that's what you are."_

Glaring at Buck, Jason spoke with barely subdued fury."Shut...your...fucking...mouth."

Lifting his hands in surrender, Buck chuckled. _"Ok I get it. I'll shut my mouth."_

"Good." Jason snarled.

 _"Just as soon as you get her mouth open and full of-"_

"I swear to god I will kill you again!" Jason was in front of him instantly, his eyes livid with the effort it took for him not to try and strangle the dead man. Still he wasn't ready to find out what would happen if he tried to touch the dead man.

This time Buck took a step back, the smile vanishing from his lips. _"Right then. I'll just be here, not saying a word about what a lovely handhold that pony tail of hers would-"_

A warning sound from Jason and Buck stopped talking, even going so far as to make a zipping motion with a hand across his mouth.

 _"Well this is just icing on the cake."_ a rather pissy third voice chimed in.

Buck grimaced as he looked over Jason's shoulder. _"Don't look now mate, but I think things just got very fucked up."_ he said in a conspiratorial tone.

Reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, Jason took a deep breath. This was something he'd been dreading, hoping even that it wouldn't come to pass, but he knew eventually it would. Without looking at the owner of the voice, he pointed back with his free hand in the general direction that owner should be.

"I can not deal with you right now." he stated flatly.

Standing just off to the side, but almost exactly where Jason was pointing, Liza crossed her arms and scowled. _"You already dealt with me Jason, or did you forget that you murdered me?"_

 _"Oi, she is right riled up that one is."_ Buck chirped, gaining another angry glare from Jason.

"No I didn't forget that and you know it." Jason commented as he slowly turned to face his dead girlfriend. "You're in here right?" tapping the side of his head with a finger. "You know what I know and all that. So spare me the mind games ok. I'm all full up with this asshole's shit as it is." motioning towards Buck with a thumb.

 _"I'm hurt Jason. Not my fault yer such a mess is it now?_ " the tattooed man said with a wounded inflection. _"Think of your poor pal Buck now an have a heart mate. I gotta sit around inside that noggin of yours all day with the likes of her."_ nodding towards Liza, _"Not to mention all the thoughts and what not you try to hide away in the dark corners."_

Jason scowled. "Look you don't like it in my head then get out of it. Not like I enjoy it." Cutting his eyes towards Liza he added, "That goes for you too."

Buck went to say something, but changed his mind. Instead he shrugged and went back to leaning against the tree.

Liza on the other hand planted her fists on her hips. _"Don't try to change the subject Jason."_

"What the hell are you talking about?" he refused to use her name. This wasn't Liza. It was some sort of delusion that looked and sounded exactly like her. Nothing more. Whatever emotions had been stirred up seeing her that night on the cliff didn't matter. She wasn't real. He knew that just like he knew Buck wasn't standing over there. They were dead, the both of them. He was just crazy, yeah that was it. Because the alternative was just way too fucked up to deal with. These two were just figments of his imagination.

Buck looked at Liza and gestured towards Jason as if to say...See what I have to put up with?

She on the other hand was a touch more vocal. _"I'm talking about the fact that you slit my throat for that island cunt and now you're all but creaming your pants over some little native bitch."_

"Do NOT call her that." Jason ordered.

Liza covered her mouth in mock surprise. _"Oh I'm sorry. Did I upset you by calling her a little native bitch? Maybe I should just call her your little cock sucker then? I mean that's obviously what you want her to do isn't it Jason? You want that little girl to wrap her little mouth around your dick and suck it don't you?"_ she sneered. _"As if she even knows what a blowjob is, but then again I'm sure you'd be more than happy to teach her."_

Jason began to tremble with a growing rage that threatened to snap what small perceived thread of sanity he had left. "You sick bitch."

She pressed on. _"Admit it. You were checking her out back there weren't you? You're the sick one! She's what, fifteen at the most, maybe pushing sixteen? My god Jason what is wrong with you?"_

Surprisingly Buck came to Jason's defense. _"Now we can't blame our boy here. He's a red blooded fella after all. No surprise that the sight of that tight little bum of hers got his motor going. Fella has needs and sweetie our lovely here hasn't exactly been getting certain carnal desires met regularly since coming to the islands. I mean Citra threw him a taste now and then to be sure, but that's a dry well so to speak."_ making a gun with his hand and pretending to shoot at Liza, Buck made his final point. _"Not like you can do anything but talk dirty and pose for him while her jerks off my dear, so yeah pipe down I say."_

 _"Nobody asked you!"_ she snapped.

Buck chuckled. _"Didn't have to. Remember we're all one happy fucked up family here love. Me and you, you and him, him and me...one big cluster fuck."_

"Ok both of you shut the fuck up." Jason demanded as he began to pace in an effort to bleed off his fury before he lost control and tried to kill, yes kill two imaginary people. Though he wasn't sure he could bring himself to try and kill Liza again no matter how angry he got. Once was bad enough. In fact the very idea was giving him the shakes.

 _"He does that when he's trying to sort shit out."_ Buck explained with a nod of his head towards Jason. _"Shakes are new though."_ he quipped.

Liza rolled her eyes and flipped Buck off. _"I know what he's like thank you very much. Which is why I'm so disappointed in him right now."_ cutting her eyes over to Jason she ran a hand through her hair in frustration. _"You know this is only going to get worse don't you? You have to get away from her."_

Furrowing his brows, Jason stopped pacing and looked at her. "Say what?"

Liza crossed her arms with a huff. _"You heard me. Take her home and leave her there. No, better yet, just leave her here. Go get in the jeep and just leave. She can get home on her own. This shit hole is her backyard. You don't need to hold her hand."_

 _"To be fair I don't think it's her hand he wants to hold._ " Buck cut in. _"More like the back of her head I'd wager."_

"Shut up!" _"Shut up!"_ both Jason and Liza snapped simultaneously.

Buck put on a show of being put in his place and folded his arms over his chest. _"Fine then. I'll just be over here knowing I'm right and all."_ he said under his breath, but it was clear the others heard him anyway.

Turning back to Liza, Jason pointed a finger in the direction of where Rika was. "I am not abandoning her here just because you have some fucked up idea that I'm..." he faltered.

 _"That you're what?"_ she countered. _"Go on say it."_

Furious at himself all over again, Jason lashed out at the nearest tree. His fist slammed into it hard enough to shake the limbs over head, causing birds to take flight from their hiding spots.

"Go away!" he all but screamed.

"I'm sorry." came the small voice.

Looking over, Jason saw Rika standing a few yards away, her eyes wary. Buck and Liza were thankfully nowhere to be found. Not that Rika would have seen or heard them anyway he thought to himself.

The sight of her was the very definition of confliction. She was a rare beauty as far as Rook Island women went. Even among the exotic allure they offered, Rika stood out like a jewel amid stones. Her Japanese blood lent her features something the other women simply lacked. Standing there in nothing but those all too little shorts, with her barely there faded yellow tank top, her luxurious hair in that high pony tail, and those amber eyes of hers...it was almost too much for the primal male inside him to handle. She was the very picture of temptation, but his rational mind screamed at him that she was an innocent girl. A child really and something that was as off limits as anything could be. Then there was the fact that she held in her right hand a knife that even now dripped with dark blood. The same blood that stained the fingers on both her hands. The combination of innocence, pure sex, and danger was a toxin that threatened to taint him in ways he wasn't prepared for.

This wasn't right. How could this be happening? Never in his life had Jason ever had thoughts like this. He knew that until back in the clearing Rika had just been the girl who had been helping him since his recovery. Why had his view of her changed so drastically all of a sudden? Was this just another symptom of his insanity showing itself? If so was it safe for her to be around him? Was Liza right? Damn it that's not Liza he reprimanded himself.

Rika had come looking for Jason when he hadn't returned right away. She was pretty sure it didn't take that long to pee, but in the jungle it was better to be safe than sorry. She didn't like the idea of finding him in the middle of his business so she had been sure to make enough noise to alert him to her approach. As she'd drawn closer to where she thought he was, his voice had reached her. He'd been talking to himself again. She'd caught him doing that a few times now since they'd begun this trip of theirs. It wasn't uncommon for people to talk to themselves. She did it from time to time. Only with Jason it seemed different. It was like he really saw people that weren't there with how he carried on. She was sure he had no idea she knew, but she wasn't ready to ask him about it yet either. So when he had ordered somebody to go away just now, she was almost certain it wasn't her.

"Rika, I...ugh..." Jason mentally groped for the right words.

Seeing his distress, she decided to steer things towards an easier place. One the both of them were well versed in. Putting an air of annoyance into her voice she asked, "How hard is it to pee pig brain?" cocking her hip out with an exasperated sigh.

He blinked, then took the bait with a half grin forming on his lips. "Harder with a monkey watching."

She huffed before turning to head back to the clearing. "Monkeys have better things to do than watch a little worm."

He was going to make a snappy come back about how it was so not a little worm, but he caught himself before he did. She's a kid, stop that. Don't even joke like that with her. She doesn't know any better. Just keep your mouth shut and clear your head Jason.

Stepping away from the tree he followed her back into the clearing. Making sure that his eyes went anywhere but the slender young girl ahead of him.

The wind was picking up and with it the promise of rain only increased. The storm was coming and they still had to get back to the cave where they had made camp. He'd need to gather some fire wood on their way back. He ran through a mental check list to keep his thoughts occupied. It was what he needed to do right now. He was back under control, at least he felt like he was. He'd sort out what was going on in his head and without the so called help of his unwanted guests. Not like they were helping at all, more like they just wanted to rub his face in all his worst mistakes.

Jason had to wonder what facets of himself they each represented. He'd taken psych in college, mostly to hit on the girls in class, but he had picked up a few things along the way. Now Buck had said he was the one who saw all the dark things that he didn't want to admit. To Jason that sounded like Buck was a reflection of his baser self, the crude mentality that saw the dark humor and overtly sexual nature of everything. The part of him that looked at the world without social constraints or accountability.

On the other hand Liza seemed to always bring up his failures, his worst moments. She had in the brief time he's interacted with her, been able to cut him to the quick and drill home just how much he had messed everything up. She was easy to understand. She was his guilt, his self loathing. This version of Liza that his mind had constructed represented everything he hated about himself. Liza had been set in her ways, thinking she was understanding and that she could help him by changing him, but that had been the real Liza, not this fake one. This one only wanted to punish him. Yeah she was a real treat he thought.

Coming to the deer's remains, Rika pointed at the portions she'd carved out for them to take back. "That is for us." then waving her knife to the rest of the deer. "That is for the jungle."

This was how she'd been taught. A hunter kills to survive, not for sport. A hunter takes only what they need, the rest is an offering to nature in thanks. What is not used is never lost, only returns to the cycle of life. The remains would feed all manner of things and from that would come survival for others. In this way all things were a part of the greater whole.

Jason dropped to one knee and folded their take of the meat into an old shirt he'd kept tied around his waist. Securing the meat he stood and settled the bundle over his shoulder with two fingers holding the cord that tied it closed.

"We done?" he asked her, still not letting his eyes pass over her.

Rika was pouring water from her canteen over her knife, washing the blade before sheathing it on her waist. Yes I think so." Lifting the canteen to her lips she took a swallow of the warm liquid.

Jason glanced her way despite himself and watched her throat as she swallowed. Liza's, or rather fake Liza's words came rushing back to him and he averted his gaze quickly. Well she'd been right about one thing for sure. This was going to be a problem. Great now he was not only a monster who had betrayed his friends, killed his once girlfriend, and slaughtered his way through Rook Island, but now he was apparently perving on an underage girl who had done nothing but try to help him.

Rika could tell something was bothering Jason, but was hesitant to bring it up. She never knew how her words would effect him. Would he laugh in amusement or grow upset for some reason she could never understand? Thinking back on when he'd laid hands on her caused her to touch her arm and the bruises that were quite clearly showing there. The first time Jason had seen them she remembered the look on his face. It was as if her bruises caused him actual pain. In a way that was greater than any words he could offer her in way of apology. Knowing he never meant to hurt her though was of little comfort. He'd still done it. What else was he capable of if he lost control she wondered? The longer she spent around him the more of a puzzle he became. How could the same person bring out the feelings of both fear and safety? Half the time she wanted to throw something at him, then the other half she had no idea what she wanted to do.

Jason began to walk away from the remains of the deer, heading towards their camp. She fell into step behind him and it was not long before her eyes were drawn to him as they all too often were of late. This man was a mystery despite all the stories she'd heard of him. He was not the perfect hero she once believed Snow White to be. He was a real person with flaws and scars. So many scars she thought as the memory of him laying on that cot in Rohana's shack rose to the surface. His upper body was a patchwork of cuts, gunshots, tears, wild animals, and even burns. Even now as she walked behind him she could see the story the scars on his arms told. It was one of violence and survival. Yes he was a survivor of that there was no doubt. She wondered if anything could kill such a man as Jason Brody.

Her thoughts about his mortality brought other memories to light. Like that his scars were not just relegated to his upper body. While watching him get ready to bathe back at her home, Rika had seen that his legs were in just as bad a shape. It was like he had been through every possible torment during his time on Rook Island. Yet still he refused to yield. There was something about that idea, that he would not stop, could not be stopped, that she liked. That was very much a part of the stories that had drawn her in. The idea of an unbeatable hero.

Of course she'd seen more than his legs that day. Remembering exactly what she'd seen caused her cheeks to heat up. Which was mirrored by a flooding warmth that rooted itself somewhere in the pit of her stomach. Laying a hand across her midsection she wondered what that meant? It was an alien sensation that had seemed to be centered around thoughts of the man walking before her. Rika wasn't well versed in the interactions between men and women, but she wasn't completely without ideas. She'd become aware of her fixation on Jason's physicality. He towered above her, often causing conflicting emotions when she was near him. On the one hand he made her feel safe, while she still worried he might lash out again. Those were easy to understand. It was the other things that gave her pause. Like how his gaze could root her in place if she met it at the wrong time. Not to mention how sometimes when she thought back on how easily he'd lifted her off the ground it wasn't fear that filled her memories, but something else. A fleeting thrill at witnessing his strength and knowing that she could do nothing against him. As a hunter this made absolutely no sense to her. After all a hunter needed to be in control, to know not only their prey, but the true predators that ruled the world around them. Back on that day she had been helpless before him. She remembered that feeling, the truth in that understanding. He could have ended her life and nothing she could have done would have prevented that. It was both terrifying and yet there was an allure to that knowledge she could not deny.

This was what she could not understand. This exact thing. How could she find that appealing at all? She'd been so angry with him afterwards and she would never allow him to hurt her again without serious consequences, even if it did cost her dearly.

Rika nearly bumped into Jason he stopped so suddenly.

"Jason what are you-"

"Shhh." was the only sound he made as he dropped the wrapped meat to the ground.

Rika felt it then. Something she couldn't put into words, but none the less it was there. A certainty that something was wrong. The jungle seemed to have closed in on them since they'd left the clearing and it was quiet. The trees loomed over them and the air was still. She'd been lost in her thoughts, something she now chided herself for. How could she have lost her focus out here of all places? Letting her eyes drift to Jason for a moment she knew why. He made her feel safe of course, even as he put her on edge. A distraction that could prove very dangerous in the jungle.

"We're not far from the cave." Jason said in a low voice. "I want you to keep heading for it."

Stepping up beside him, she bent down and picked up the meat. "What are you going to do Jason?" keeping her own voice low.

He didn't mince words. "Use you as bait."

Looking up at him she saw that his eyes were not on her, but the shadows of the jungle that surrounded them as the sun began sinking. Twilight was fast approaching. A low rumble of thunder crawled across the sky.

"Go." he said.

She began walking in the direction of the cave. Her steps were not hurried even though everything in her was screaming that she should run. She knew better than that. If she ran then whatever was out there would chase her down. She needed to give Jason time, so that meant she had to draw out whatever was causing the growing fear in her gut. Jason seemed to have a plan, but what it was she could not say.

Despite herself she glanced back, but Jason was nowhere to be seen. Eyes forward once more Rika kept putting one foot in front of the other. Oh this was not good at all she thought.

Jason stood watching Rika as she shrank into the distance. He felt it close by now. Something dangerous, not human, and getting closer. Now that he was alerted to its presence he noted that it wasn't being too stealthy in its approach. That meant either it was sure of itself or too big to move through the underbrush easily. Maybe both, but that was not a pleasant thought at all he decided.

Still he couldn't just stand here doing nothing. The question was why was something stalking them? There was a fresh kill back in the clearing so why bother with them? The smell of blood should have drawn any predators in the area back to the...

Blood! Rika had blood on her from dressing the dear. She'd cleaned her knife, but not her hands. Damn it.

The sound of something big crashing through the jungle sent his heart racing. It was after her he was sure of it.

Rika had managed to keep from running until she saw the cave in the distance. Then she'd heard the sounds of pursuit behind her and instinct took over. Breaking into a full run she made for the cave with everything she had. Behind her she heard the grunts of something big and it was getting closer. She wanted to look back but she didn't dare risk it. The cave was just ahead and inside there she knew Jason's guns were were stashed. Her father had never taught her how to use a gun, but she'd seen them used enough to know all you had to do was point and pull the trigger. That she could do.

The seconds seemed to stretch just as the distance to the cave seemed to grow with every step she took. She barely felt the ground under her feet as her panic grew. She had to make it, there was no other choice. Make the cave or die.

"DROP THE MEAT!" Jason screamed from somewhere in the distance.

She flung the wrapped meat aside and redoubled her efforts to make the cave. Behind her she heard ripping and chomping sounds and knew that whatever had been chasing her was tearing into the meat. She also felt certain that after it was done with that she would be next. A few heart beats later and she was inside the cave. Casting her bow to the ground she fumbled through Jason's backpack, searching for his guns.

Her fingers felt the cold metal and she gripped it tight, pulling the pistol out. It felt larger than she had expected, forcing her to use both hands to steady it as she turned to face the mouth of the cave, bringing the gun up. She stood waiting, her breathing ragged from the fear that refused to leave her. Something was out there and it had been hunting them. Now she was cornered with no way out.

Thunder erupted overhead, shaking the cave without warning, causing her to jump so that she almost dropped the pistol. Setting her lips into a thin line she braced with her feet apart, ready to shoot. Then she heard it. A sound near the edge of the cave's entrance. A shuffling huffing sound like something very large sniffing the air. That was followed by a drawn out groan of a grunt and Rika knew with dread certainty what had been chasing her. She also knew the pistol wouldn't be enough to stop it.

"...Jason..." she whimpered as the fear rose up to send her hands into a shaking fit.

A looming form stepped into view at the mouth of the cave, easily blocking any idea of her escaping now. The bear was a full grown male, black fur, dark primitive eyes, and worst of all it had a blood stained maw full of teeth. It's massive head shifted from side to side as it sniffed the air. With a loud snort it took a few steps inside. Rika pulled the trigger and the pistol bucked in her hands. The sound of the shot was deafening inside the cave, that combined with the kick she hadn't been expecting caused her to drop the gun and it clattered out of sight somewhere. She stood, hands shaking, eyes wide with fright, wondering what to do now.

The bear was roaring in a fit, a growing patch of red on its shoulder. She'd managed to wound it, but that wasn't a good thing at all. Now it was enraged and the source of its pain was inside the cave with no way out. Lowering its head, the bear exposed its bloody teeth with a deep snarl. It pawed at the ground, its wicked claws gouging the earth. When it roared the sound filled the cave and sent Rika to her knees, covering her ears as she fought not to scream.

Then the bear yelped in pain.

Looking up she saw that it was turning away from the cave, something was causing it to turn in circles and she soon spotted what it was. The machete was protruding from one of its hind legs, up high near the hip. The wounded animal roughly slid itself against the edge of the cave until the machete came loose with a spurt of blood. Lowering its head the bear sniffed the blade and growled deep in its throat.

A loud whistle split the air and the huge predator swiveled its head towards the sound.

Jason stood brazenly out in the open. "That's right big boy. Over here." he called out, waving his arms around.

Rika could not believe her eyes. He was insane, completely insane. There was nowhere to go out there, no place to escape the bear. Jason was good at hiding and he was fast, but he was no match for a bear. It would run him down easily and then it would kill him. Jason was going to die!

To his credit or lack there of, Jason really didn't have a plan when he launched his only weapon at the bear. All he wanted to do was keep it from going in the cave where Rika was. Beyond that he was at a loss. From the looks of things he had the bear's full attention that was for sure. Ok, so now what?

"Great job dumb ass." Jason said under his breath.

The bear opened its mouth wide with a roar of challenge, giving Jason a perfect view of its bone crunching teeth. Something he really could have done without.

"Aw fuck me."

The bear began lumbering towards him slowly, taking its time. It wasn't going to rush just yet, he knew that. It would get closer before bursting towards him and then things were going to get real ugly. Every other time he'd taken on a bear he's been armed, now he didn't even have a blade. It had been a big mistake to throw his only weapon away, but what else could he have done?

The world constricted as the bear broke into a full charge with a roar. Jason swore he could feel the ground shaking, but maybe that was just the thunder. He wanted to turn and run, but he knew he didn't have a chance in hell of outrunning that big bastard.

"Fuck it!" He broke into a run anyway, not like he could stop himself, fear was a great motivator after all.

Deciding to take the bear as far from the cave as possible he turned, pushing off with his back leg. Only he never made it further than that as the bear rolled over him like he was nothing. Jason felt the sheer mass of the thing as it plowed him down, then the pain as its claws ripped at his shoulder before the ground rose up to welcome him. Growls and snarls filled his ears as the bear began to maul him. Twisting he managed to face it and was greeted by its hot breath washing over his face.

Inside the cave Rika got to her feet and began frantically looking for the gun. She had to find it. She had to help Jason.

The bear had the source of its latest pain well in hand and was ready to tear the human's head off. With no other choice, Jason threw his left arm up reflexively to ward off the maw of teeth that descended towards his face. He felt an intense pressure, then heard himself screaming in pain as the bear clamped down like a vise. His hand and most of his forearm was crushed and punctured by the bear's teeth. Then it started thrashing its head from side to side, threatening to rip his arm out of the socket.

Jason's screams brought Rika to a stand still, leaving her to watch in horror as the bear began to drag him around by his arm like a ragdoll. The sight froze her in place.

The pain in his arm was a living thing that was clawing its way through his brain and Jason knew he was going to die. This realization brought with it a certain calm. It was going to be over soon. All this suffering, everything that had happened, everything this place had put him through would just fade away. Blessed silence, yes that was what would happen.

Then Rika would be next.

As the bear thrashed him around by his arm Jason wanted to ignore that last part. It wasn't his problem. He was going to die after all. Rika could take care of herself. Not like he'd asked her to help him or let him stay with her. Plus she annoyed him too. Why should he give a damn what happened after he was dead anyway? Hadn't he been through enough already? Hell he was being mauled by a fucking bear, you'd think that would earn him some sort of relief. Just let it all end right...right?

Fuck it.

Jason threw his good arm around the bear's neck and locked down as hard as he could, digging his fingers into the thick black fur. The next time he was thrown around he planted his feet and braced with every ounce of strength he could muster. The bear tried to throw him back to the ground, but his hold on its neck and the fact he was now standing tall put a stop to that. With an angry growl the bear ground down on his arm, blood flowing from its maw, dripping to the ground as it did. The pain didn't even matter to Jason now, he was past that. Instead he was getting pissed off.

This fucking bear wasn't going to kill him, not after everything he'd gone through on this island. Not a damn chance. He hadn't gone through Hell to have things end like this. If this fucking thing wanted to kill him it was damn well going to earn it. Jason pressed his forehead against the bear's and let out a growl of his own. Eye to eye with the massive beast he put every bit of his anger into the stare down.

The bear sensed the change in its prey and faltered. Where once there had been panic now it only detected aggression. The human was no longer covered by the smell of fear. That was gone entirely, replaced by something dangerous. Now the bear felt it had perhaps taken on something it should not have. Something that was not afraid of it, that did not respect its dominance. The thing in its mouth was no longer prey, it had become a challenger. A thing that had every intention of living. The bear could tell that this human was not going to run or just die like the other animals it had killed. This one meant to fight.

Jason let go of the bear's neck and raked his good hand down over its face, gouging one of its eyes out in a feral display of savagery. The bear howled in pain, releasing his arm as it did. Jason flung himself back, taking the bear's left eye with him as it popped free to trail nerves and veins behind it before they snapped. With blood and gore oozing from it's now empty eye socket the bear stumbled around trying to keep it's remaining eye on Jason, all the while it thrashed around in the throes of pain.

Dropping the bloody orb, Jason staggered a few steps towards the cave, his left arm in ruins from the elbow down. His shoulder was pouring blood as well, but none of that mattered now. He had to get to the cave. The cave became his sole reason for living. Just get to the cave.

Rika saw him coming and ran to him, throwing his good arm over her shoulders and helping him the rest of the way into their false sanctuary. Behind them she heard the bear tearing up the ground, its pain filled roars seeming to drown out the thunder. Together they stumbled towards their packs, but Jason kept moving right past them.

"Gotta go further." he managed to say through the pain that was now starting to set his entire body to throbbing.

Rika didn't argue, only lent him as much of her strength as she could so they could head deeper into the darkness, leaving all their supplies behind. She didn't know what good this was going to do since they'd be trapped in the cave no matter how you looked at it. This was only going to be a momentary reprieve at best.

What she didn't know was that Jason intended to find a crevice or hole to shove her into and then deal with the bear as best as he could. If he told her that he was sure she'd argue with him and he didn't have time for that right now. He needed to make sure she was safe, after that he'd do whatever he could. He didn't know what that might be, but he'd get to it just as soon as he could. One thing at a time he told himself.

Behind them the bear had entered the cave and begun tearing up everything in its path. Party due to rage, but also because it only had one eye now and the darkness of the cave was throwing it off. Still it could smell them, tracking Jason's blood easy enough. It knew they were just ahead and it would have them. It had nothing else on its mind now but that. They had hurt it and besides it now had a taste for Jason. So it came after them, sweeping its head from side to side, blood slinging to and fro as it went.

Rika knew they were running out of time, but she knew of nothing else to do. This was all they had. Just keep moving. Her mind was in panic mode, her thoughts were a jumble she couldn't sort out. Rational thinking was beyond her at this point.

Jason felt like all he needed was to sit down and take a breather and he'd be fine despite the agony his arm had become. Funny thing was that being chased by a one eyed bear through a cave wasn't even the strangest thing that had happened to him in the past year. He'd laugh it things weren't so dire.

They came to a stop when surprise of surprises, they ran out of cave. However they hadn't come to the back of the cave at all, but instead to an opening with a black void beyond. The ground fell away and Jason got the impression they were standing at the lip of a larger cave structure now. He knew the island was riddled with ruins and all manner of underground chambers both natural and man made. If he was right, this could be a way out, well that or just a larger hole to die in. Either way it seemed better than being eaten by a bear.

"What now Jason?" she asked fearfully, hearing the bear closing in.

Wow she really sounded scared he thought. Something about that really bothered him. "Hey Rika..." he didn't wait for her to say anything. "Ladies first."

He shoved her into the dark void, her scream echoing as she went. With a last prayer for some luck, any luck, he followed after her.

They fell in the darkness, arms flailing. It was a short fall, perhaps twenty feet, and they landed in a deep pool of water. Sputtering, they both surfaced.

"You ok?" he called out, treading water as best he could with one arm.

From somewhere in the dark he heard her coughing.

"You threw me! You threw me first!" her shrill screech filling the darkness.

Yeah she was ok he thought. "You wanted to stay up there with the bear?"

"No, but...you threw me first!"

"We live through this I'll owe you one how's that?" he offered, trying to hide how much pain he was in.

Rika had been following the sound of his voice when she bumped into him. His sharp intake of breath and the string of curses told her all she needed to know of his condition. She'd seen the mauling happen first hand. He was lucky to be alive, but she held no doubts that he was gravely injured. They needed to get out of this water and see to him as soon as possible.

Looking this way and that she saw only darkness. They were underground, treading water, Jason was bleeding, she was just shy of freaking out, and to make it just a little bit worse she couldn't see anything.

No wait..that wasn't right. Something was just over there. Off to the side. A blurry mass that might be solid ground.

"Jason over there." spitting out water with every word.

He looked from side to side. "Where? I don't see anything."

Reaching out she grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged. "Follow." she ordered.

He did the best he could to keep up with her as she swam slowly towards the shape. The closer they got the more details she could make out. It was a flat rocky slope that rose out of the water. Over head there was an opening that let in the final bit of twilight before both the night and storm swallowed it. Thick vines hung down into the chamber, the size of which they still could not tell. If she had to guess the opening was maybe twenty or thirty feet up, big enough for Jason to fit through, but it looked tight.

She felt Jason surge forward and guessed that he'd found some footing on the pools bottom. Moments later her own feet touched the smooth rock hidden beneath the dark pool and she struggled up onto the rock and fell onto her back, dragging in huge gulps of air. Beside her Jason lowered himself down, holding his injured arm close as he lay on his uninjured side. She could tell he was suffering, but at least they were free of the bear.

"See...safe...and...sound." he said through the pain.

Back up at the cave the bear roared its displeasure at having its victims escape. The sniffed at the edge, but refused to take the plunge itself. With a last roar it receded back into the cave, prepared to wait them out.

Rika wiped wet strands of hair from her face, pushing herself into a sitting position. "I do not feel safe Jason." her voice shaky at the idea of just how close they'd come to death.

She waited for some snippy words from him, but when they never came her panic returned in full force. Scampering over, she hovered above him, her hair hanging down to brush his face. He wasn't moving, his jaw was slack, and even in the dim light she could see the ruin his arm had been reduced to.

"Jason!" she shouted his name, but he did not answer.


End file.
